castle of the rose
by stanzaic
Summary: Everything changed for Logan O'Shaughnessy with one party. Vampires were real, her best friend was a liar, a moonstone was a thing, and she may have met a Disney prince. Her life has never been so weird. Soulmate AU; Elijah/OC.
1. incompatible

**CASTLE OF THE ROSE** | DECEMBER 2014

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><p>CHAPTER ONE | INCOMPATIBLE<p>

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><p>It was the night from hell.<p>

Logan O'Shaughnessy was standing on her front porch in her itchy wedge heels, waiting for her unfortunate date to show up. She glanced back over her shoulder at the front door—she could still hear her parents, her younger sister, and Abby's date inside. "Smile!" Logan distinctly heard someone say. There was an inaudible mutter followed by a burst of laughter.

Her decision to stand outside on the front porch in the chilly night air was in order to protect herself, and Owen Melbroke, from an onslaught of photographs. Logan's parents would lose it. "Okay, now pose with your hand on her waist!" they would cry. "Try a funny picture!" would be next. "Aw, how sweet," they would coo throughout the entirety.

It was literally Logan's parents' fault that she was going on a date with Owen Melbroke at all. Logan and Owen were friends from their shared math class at school—and the fact that their parents were friends. Logan and Owen had also been attending the same church for as long as, Logan was sure, either of them could recall. Therefore their parents thought it was a great idea to shove the two of them together.

Logan was pretty sure that her mom just wanted her to date. _Well, it's your own damn fault, Mother,_ Logan thought irritably, shifting around her foot in her shoe. The O'Shaughnessy family dating restrictions ended at sixteen. Logan was now seventeen and had only dated one guy—secretly, too. Of course she'd had no clue what to look for in a guy and her best friends were, albeit helpful, not always there to shield her from assholes and creeps, so it was no surprise she'd managed to start dating one of the jerkasses of the century.

Oh, well. At least they were broken up now.

Logan saw headlights flash onto her street. She let out a breath of relief she hadn't realized she'd been holding and quickly moved toward the steps down from the front porch. She briefly considered going around before stepping onto the crunchy greenish grass of the lawn to cross it, heading toward the curb.

Owen pulled up in a gold minivan. Logan almost turned around and went right back inside: but being inside would have been just as bad as arriving at a masquerade party in a mom car, and she wouldn't get to see her friends inside, so she steeled herself and walked right up to the minivan now idling at the curb.

Logan swung open the passenger's side door. "Oh, I was going to do that," said Owen.

"Do what?" asked Logan as she climbed into the car. She felt her foot touch something and she quickly looked down. There were piles of CDs scattered on the floor under her seat.

"Open your door for you," said Owen. "You can just move those."

Logan opted instead to swing her door shut. She pulled her purse off, over her head, and set it in her lap. Then she reached for her seatbelt. "Did your parents want to take pictures?" Owen asked as she clicked her seatbelt into place. "My parents took like forty of me."

"Don't worry about it," said Logan. "My parents did the same to me. They can Photoshop them if they're desperate."

After a split second Owen laughed awkwardly. Logan propped her elbow up against the windowsill and then rested her fist against her cheek. _Save me, dear God,_ she prayed as Owen started down the road. _Deliver us all_.

She'd been praying similarly last night, too. Today she'd had a presentation in her history class. Logan hadn't been alone, which she genuinely thanked God for, but she knew she'd been terrible anyway. She wasn't used to having that many people look at her and actually expect something. Ugh—she didn't even want to think about it.

The masquerade party was going to take place at, of course, the house of Logan's one and only ex. Mrs. Lockwood was the mayor of Mystic Falls, the small Virginia town where Logan lived. Mr. Lockwood had previously been the mayor, but he'd passed away rather recently in a car accident. Logan knew it was rude but she couldn't say she was sad to see him go—after dating his son Tyler, she knew just how much of a jerk the old mayor had been.

At least the party would be fun. Logan was wearing a short, strapless dark blue dress, with her black wedge heels. She'd left her hair down and naturally curly. She loved dressing up for any occasion but she didn't want to put too much effort into a date with Owen.

The ride felt much longer than it was. Logan was glad she'd insisted that both of them eat dinner at their own houses before Owen came by to pick her up. And, really, Logan sort of wished she'd insisted that she drive. Those were definitely Lord of the Rings audiotapes on the floor at her feet. And she was pretty sure she saw Lord of the Flies.

"You look great tonight," said Owen, as he turned onto a familiar street.

"Thanks," said Logan. She smiled politely at Owen. "You aren't too bad yourself."

Owen beamed. Logan tried not to wince.

The Lockwood family mansion was massive. It was an old plantation house, as were many of the wealthier homes in the area, and sat on several acres of land. Oak trees framed the front and back yards, and there was an actual fountain that had been installed in the center of the front lawn. People came to Lockwood family functions just to get into their house to see it.

The long and winding driveway was well-populated by cars. Owen parked near the end of the line. "Let's do this thing," he said before turning off the car.

"Yeah," said Logan, probably a beat too late. To save herself from this awkwardness she turned and climbed out of the passenger's seat, trying not to tread on whatever audiotapes Owen had left lying on his floor.

Logan and Owen walked up to the party together. As they drew nearer to the mansion Logan was given the opportunity to notice that Owen was wearing a tie with an Einstein joke on it. _Right,_ she thought, glancing away and trying not to smile. _Because that will really hide your identity at a masquerade party_.

There were, of all things, carnivalesque flame-twirlers dancing around the front lawn. Owen paused to stare at one and Logan had to take his arm and forcibly move him onward. "Where the heck do you get fire-twirlers?" Owen asked, as he and Logan continued walking up to the entrance to the mansion.

"Craig's List," Logan suggested. She released Owen's arm when she felt she was in the clear.

"Doubtful," said Owen, who was definitely putting way too much thought into this. "Maybe there's a company in the Yellow Pages."

_Does it matter?_ Logan thought. She was saved from having to cook up some response by their arrival at the front door. They had walked up a small flight of stairs to reach it. There were a couple of really downright weird men standing on either side of the door, outfitted in clownish clothes and elaborate masks. Both of them gestured slowly at the door as Logan and Owen walked up to it.

Mrs. Lockwood was standing right at the door. "Oh, hello, Logan!" she said happily, shaking Logan's hand. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

"Thanks, Mrs. Lockwood," said Logan. She sort of liked the woman.

"You look so pretty, too," Mrs. Lockwood enthused, leaning back to survey Logan's outfit. Then she leaned forward and whispered, "I'm sure Tyler will be jealous." After stating this she winked and looked back, clearly dismissing Logan.

If the rest of her evening so far hadn't been enough, it was this comment that made Logan truly believe it was going to be a horrible night. She and Tyler hadn't been dating for almost a full year now. Mrs. Lockwood really just could not let it go. She was probably embarrassed that Tyler had dated Vicki Donovan for a while.

Owen received a curt greeting at the door; then he walked into the house and stopped to whistle. "Wowie!" he said, like a kid from the fifties. "This is quite a house!"

"Yeah, Owen," said Logan, threading her arm through his. "Let's go dance."

"Sure," Owen agreed. He gaped at the house as they navigated through various people and headed for the dance floor. Logan understood the sentiment—she'd been shocked when she'd first entered the Lockwood mansion—but she'd had enough tact not to look like she was staring.

Logan prayed to the Good Lord that they would be intercepted before she actually had to dance with Owen. The Lord answered her prayers almost at once. "Oh, hey," said Logan quickly, reaching out to grab her best friend's arm. "What are you doing here? I thought you were staying home."

Elena Gilbert turned and smiled at Logan. "Hey, Logan!" she said. She tilted her head a little. "Who's your handsome date?"

Owen looked abashed. Logan turned back to Elena and rolled her eyes, hopefully out of Owen's view. Elena giggled. "Uh, Owen, meet Elena," said Logan. "Elena, this is Owen."

"Nice to meet you, Owen," said Elena, flirtatiously offering him her hand. Owen must not have understood the nuance because he shook it instead of kissing it. When he had released her hand he smiled and put his hands back into his pockets. Elena looked back at Logan with a new understanding on her face. "You look fabulous tonight, by the way."

Logan smiled. "Thanks," she said. "You look hot."

It was true. Elena was gorgeous anyway, with naturally tan skin, brown doe eyes, long brown hair, and miles-long legs, but tonight she was really showing it off with a tight strapless little black dress. "Aw, thank you," said Elena, tossing her hair a little. Logan raised her eyebrows. "Have you seen Stefan, by any chance?"

Logan frowned. "I thought you guys broke up." That was why she'd thought Elena wasn't coming to the dance.

"Yeah, but he needs to see what he's missing," said Elena. She had the gall to turn and wink at Owen, who probably died inside. "I'll see you later, Logan. Bye, Owen." She wiggled her fingers at him in a wave and moved off to join the crowd.

Logan and Owen both stared after her. Logan was the first to break her gaze. "Well," she said bracingly, "that was weird."

"Accurate," said Owen. He glanced down at Logan, who was at least three inches shorter than him even in her heels. "It's even weirder because she's in my Chemistry class."

"She—what?" said Logan. Owen nodded and Logan shook her head to clear it. "Whatever. Elena can do what she wants, she just broke up with the love of her life." Logan managed, somehow, not to roll her eyes. "What do you want to do?"

Owen glanced around. "I know you want to dance, but I kind of want to look around the house some more."

"I'll meet you out back," Logan said at once.

"Okay," Owen agreed. He smiled peaceably at Logan before turning and moving off, back in the direction from which they had come. Logan didn't even wait for him to be five feet away before she was striding swiftly toward the back door. She grabbed a crab puff from a nearby tray on her way—but then she paused and turned around to go back to the tray. Those things were way too good to eat just one.

Logan wended her way through cheery party-goers. When she reached the tray she realized too late who was already standing there. "Oh, hey," said Tyler Lockwood, looking up at Logan. She smiled politely and lifted a hand in acknowledgement. "You look really good, Logan."

"Thank you," said Logan. "You look good too."

He did. Tyler might have been arrogant, too assertive, jealous, and really easy to set off, but he was definitely a looker. He was also funny and confident and friendly, too, and a fabulous flirt, so there was that as well. It was the flirting and the handsome part that had drawn Logan in originally in sophomore year. "Oh, thanks," said Tyler, glancing down at his suit like he'd forgotten what he'd put on.

Then he looked back up at Logan with a smirk. "Owen Melbroke, huh?"

Logan could feel a flush starting to creep up the back of her neck. "Shut up," she said. "My parents literally said yes for me."

"That's—unfortunate," said Tyler, clearly struggling with a funnier but worse remark.

"And inevitable," Logan replied. She glanced around to make sure Owen wasn't standing nearby to overhear them. She spotted him talking with Duncan Reyes, back in the sitting room. Duncan was also an unfortunate person. "Did you bring anyone?" Logan paused. "Well, invite anyone here?"

Tyler grinned to himself. "Nah," he said. "Haven't really had the time for dating."

Logan didn't blame him—Vicki Donovan had died last semester from a rabid animal attack, and Tyler's father had died shortly after that. "It's understandable," Logan agreed. She offered Tyler what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She'd gone to both funerals—not with him, but for him. "I'm going to head back out," Logan decided. "Before Owen hunts me down."

Tyler laughed. "Don't you have to leave with him?"

Logan sighed dramatically. "Don't remind me," she said. Tyler snickered and Logan flashed a smile at him. "I'll see you around."

"Bye," said Tyler, as Logan grabbed another two crab puffs before turning around and walking away.

Logan did love the outdoors. It was a bit cold, but her mother had always called her a polar bear. She probably could have worn shorts year round if it was socially acceptable.

Tonight Logan walked down the back stone steps to the pretty dance floor setup. There were string lights, a white tent, and a DJ. An Ed Sheeran song was playing as Logan walked around the dance floor to seat herself at one of the round tables, covered in white tablecloths.

Once she sat down she finally opened her purse. Logan reapplied Chapstick before pulling out her phone. She was tempted to text Elena, but she also kind of didn't want to know what that girl was up to. That really hadn't been like Elena at all—Elena never dressed in clothes that revealing, and she tended not to make too many snap judgments, either, like suddenly going to the party after a full day of insisting she wouldn't.

Plus, Logan realized, Elena would have done something with her hair. It was naturally long and straight—why leave it such for a special occasion?

"Whatever," Logan decided aloud to herself. She opened her Instagram app instead of texting anyone. Everyone was probably here, anyway. As far as she knew, though, her other two best friends, Caroline Forbes and Bonnie Bennett, had dates.

Logan spent way too much time just sitting there, playing Disco Zoo and Candy Crush. Finally she decided that her mother would be ashamed and put her phone away before standing up and glancing around. She had a feeling Owen wasn't ever going to make an appearance. Would it have been bad to walk out of the dance and call her parents for a ride home? Probably.

It was then that Logan spotted someone she knew. Not very well, but still. Damon Salvatore was Elena's ex-boyfriend's older brother. Stefan was the hotter one, in Logan's opinion, but Damon wasn't exactly hideous either. Damon was also hilariously flippant.

Logan walked around the dance floor again and back up the stone steps. "Hey," she said upon reaching Damon.

Damon blinked at her. "Logan," he said, lifting his champagne glass a little. "What are you doing here?"

"Pondering the meaning of life," she said. Damon scoffed. "And Schrodinger's cat. Did you see Elena?"

"See—Elena's here?" Damon looked oddly startled.

"Yeah," said Logan. "She was acting kind of weird. Do you happen to know what went down with her and Stefan?" She'd decided to ask this because Elena was notorious for white lies and padding things to make them sound better. Damon was rudely, dreadfully honest.

"Not a clue," said Damon. He didn't look surprised anymore.

"She's also kind of dressed—"

"Sluttier than usual?" Damon finished. Logan let out a startled laugh. Damon turned to give her one of his wide-eyed significant looks. "Must be some kind of charade to win my brother back." He studied Logan for a second, who raised an eyebrow at him. Damon seemed to consider something. Then he said, "Might as well keep one safe."

"Might—what?" asked Logan, bemused.

Damon leaned closer in to her face. "Don't go inside the house until you get a text from Bonnie." Then he leaned back and gave her a quirky grin. "See you around."

"See ya," said Logan. Damon turned and walked back into the house. Logan wasn't sure why, but she knew she shouldn't follow.

All in all, the masquerade party was a total bust. At least it wasn't nearly as hellish as Logan had been expecting. Sitting alone on the stone steps out back was ten times better than having to dance with Owen. Plus, her friend Caitlin from Physics stopped by and sat with her for a while, and then both of them danced together sans their actual dates for the DJ's last song.

When the party was over Logan's phone began to ring. "Welp, there's reality calling," said Logan to Caitlin, who laughed.

"I probably have to go find my reality too," Caitlin replied wryly. "I'll see you in Physics."

"Good luck," Logan called after Caitlin.

"You too!"

As Caitlin walked back up the stone steps to disappear into the mansion, along with the majority of the people in the backyard, Logan answered her cell phone. "What's up?"

"Hey—where are you?"

"I'll meet you out front," said Logan. "See you soon."

"Okay," said Owen.

Logan hung up. She checked the time and glanced up at the sky. It was nearing twelve, and the sky was stained a pretty shade of midnight blue. She wondered how bad it would be if she just ditched Owen altogether, or just waited for Tyler and sat around out here with him on the steps, talking about nothing at all.

She decided to walk around the house rather than through it, mostly in the hopes of perhaps evading Owen for longer and not having to talk to Mrs. Lockwood again. Logan glanced around and hoped she didn't look too weird walking off around the house, past the oaks alongside the house.

Logan debated, once she had passed the mansion, walking back over to see who was on the front lawn. It sounded as though Mrs. Lockwood was making some kind of speech about the charity this night had been hosted for. Logan decided she didn't want to do it and instead made her way back toward the cars lining the long driveway.

She hit the curb and walked between a Toyota and a Honda to reach the middle of the drive. She couldn't hear any cars yet, so Logan figured it was safe to walk straight down the center. She reached up to pull off her black mask.

Logan was just jamming the mask into her purse when she caught sight of someone she knew. "Elena?" she called, now even further confused than she had been before.

Elena turned around. She was wearing a pink long-sleeved shirt with her usual flared jeans. "Hey Logan," she said with a small smile. She waited for Logan to catch up. "How was the party?" She frowned. "Didn't you come with Owen?"

"Even better question," said Logan, "weren't you just wearing a dress?"

Elena looked briefly bewildered, and then as though she understood. "Yeah," she said, in that I'm-trying-to-lie voice Logan had heard her use for at least seven years. "I just—decided it was uncomfortable, so I…"

"Hang on," said Logan as she reached Elena. She took Elena's arm and turned her around. "Are you okay? What the hell happened?"

There was a dark red bloodstain that had blossomed on Elena's back, marring her pink shirt. And, now that Logan was looking, there was blood on her sleeve, too. "Okay," said Logan, stepping back. "Why are you here, why did you and Stefan break up, why did you pretend you didn't know Owen, and why why _why_ are you bloody!?"

"Logan, listen," said Elena, turning and taking hold of Logan's wrists. "It's a really, really long explanation that I'm too tired to give right now, okay?"

"It is so not okay!" cried Logan.

In that second someone appeared out of nowhere—perhaps from between a couple of nearby cars. It was one of the people in the bizarre clownish outfits from before. Except when Logan turned to look up at the tall figure, he literally turned and threw her sideways into a Prius, which started panicking and beeping in response.

Logan had no clue what was happening and her head was now spinning from having cracked it against the Prius. She straightened up as well as she could and tackled the guy, who was clutching a valiantly struggling Elena in his arms. "Back off, psycho!" Logan shrieked, diving for the guy's legs.

She was successful in knocking him over—but then he leapt up a split second later and grabbed the fleeing Elena's leg. Logan tried to take the guy from behind, but he was too strong, and in seconds he had grabbed skinny Elena with one arm and wrapped his other hand around Logan's mouth. Logan bit his hand and he yelped—Elena was going limp in his other arm, there was a cloth he was holding over her mouth and nose—and he slammed Logan into a car again.

The last thing Logan thought before she blacked out was _please don't be a rapist_.

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><p>AUTHOR'S NOTE | Hidey-ho, neighbors! I love Elijah quite a lot, so I thought I'd add my own ElijahOC to the mix! :) I hope you enjoyed the first chapter; please leave a review with your thoughts and some constructive criticism!

DISCLAIMER | I don't own _Vampire Diaries_.


	2. it

**CASTLE OF THE ROSE**

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><p>CHAPTER TWO | IT<p>

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><p>Logan woke with a sneeze.<p>

"Fucking shit," she said at once. Then she closed her eyes briefly and opened them again. Barely awake and she was already spewing profanity.

It was no wonder, though. Logan quickly took stock of the situation. Her head was pounding, as was her heart. Her nose and the back of her throat felt ticklish, and she judged that to be because she hadn't had the opportunity to take Claritin this morning. To her surprise she wasn't tied to a chair; in fact her hands and her feet weren't even bound at all.

Logan pinched the bridge of her nose before slowly looking around the room. She wasn't sure if her head hurt because of the clown man throwing her around or if she was developing a migraine. Either way, it wasn't going to end well, and she made a mental note not to make any sudden movements, or stare directly into light.

She was in what looked like a large, ancient sitting room. It was coated in a thick layer of dust. There were badly-nailed boards over the two massive windows in the room; bright sunlight seeped between and under the boards. Logan had no idea what time it was, and her purse was gone so she couldn't check her phone. All she knew was that it had to be the next day.

Finally Logan gauged where she was in the room. She was seated, in a weirdly normal position, on an antique loveseat. She turned and found Elena curled up at the other end, eyes closed and dried bloodstains still on her shirt.

Logan had no idea what was happening and therefore decided to pray about it. When she was finished with this—it took quite some time—she started to think about the room. She really hoped there were no black widow infestations. In fact, she hoped there were no infestations of anything at all; black widows or brown recluses would just be the worst.

She glanced back over at Elena. "Hey," Logan said, reaching out and nudging Elena's leg with her foot. The wedge heels were really making her feet hurt but there was no way she'd put her bare feet on this floor or the loveseat. "Elena, hey."

Elena shifted when Logan poked her in the butt with her heel. As she blinked and slowly started to sit up, Logan heard voices echo from somewhere beyond the room. Elena sat up and turned toward Logan; Logan put her finger to her lips to indicate Elena should stay quiet. "How's the girl?" Logan heard an Englishwoman ask.

"Still passed out," reported a male voice. The clown?

"You didn't touch her, did you?"

"Give me some credit," said the male, irritable.

Elena looked over and met Logan's eyes. Logan furrowed her eyebrows, considering. Elena looked weirdly terrified. Logan would have been scared, too, and she was sure she was currently experiencing a healthy dose of fear, but neither of them were dead and she was pretty sure neither of them had been raped.

"So you called him?" said the male.

"No," said the Englishwoman. "I called one of his contacts. You know how this works."

Were they going to be sold as sex slaves? Logan just really hoped this had nothing to do with forcible sex. It was one of her greatest fears, outside spiders, asphyxiation, and going to hell or offending God, both of which were probably the same thing. "Did you or did you not get the message to Elijah?" demanded the man, growing angrier.

Elena touched Logan's arm, making her jump. She pointed up at the doorway and then gestured to her ears. Logan sighed lightly and was the first to stand.

Both of them crossed the old room, causing a few floorboards to creak along the way. As they crept over to the double-sided staircase, which they ascended carefully, Logan wondered about their predicament. Elijah didn't sound like the kind of name a human trafficking drug lord would have. Plus, why would such a person have them stuck in this nasty old house? Wouldn't he have access to better safehouses?

This was too bizarre. Logan didn't like how their captors had only been discussing one girl, either. Which one did they value over the other?

When Logan and Elena reached the doorway, Elena touched her arm again, making her pause. Logan crossed over to peek around one edge of the door frame while Elena leaned around the other. "They say he got it," said the Englishwoman.

"Wonderful," said the man. "And what?"

"So that's it, Trevor," said the woman. "He either got it or he didn't. We just have to wait."

Elena started to walk up the small, slightly crooked hallway they were staring down. Logan looked back at the loveseat in the massive mostly-empty sitting room before stepping closely after Elena. She was not a fan of horror movies and she really wished there was a third person here with them—Logan knew that you only ever had to be faster than the slowest person.

At least the house didn't really sound haunted, unless the two voices belonged to ghosts. "Look," the guy was saying. "It's not too late, we can leave her here. We don't have to go through with this."

"Which her?" Logan hissed, looking over at Elena.

Elena frantically gestured for Logan to be quiet. Logan frowned at her. It wasn't like those two could hear her whisper all the way from wherever they were. Their voices were echoing a lot, which meant they had to be at the far end of the room off of this hall. "I'm sick of running," bit out the Englishwoman.

"Yeah?" said the man. "Well, running keeps us from dying!"

"Elijah's old school," the woman insisted. Just then both of them came into view. Logan froze, as did Elena—but the two captors were too focused on each other to look down the hall and notice their hostages eavesdropping. The Englishwoman had a short pixie cut, and was dressed rather nicely. The man emulated more of a country hobo. "If he accepts our deal," the lady continued, "we're free."

Elena, who had walked across the hallway and was now standing at the edge of another hall, poked Logan's arm. Logan looked toward her, eyebrows raised. Elena gestured with her head toward the hall; Logan shook her head violently back. Who knew what these two would do if they tried to run? Plus, they were standing right there—Logan wasn't too keen on getting stabbed, or having her head smacked again.

Elena gave her a steel-jawed dark look before stepping into the doorway that led to the other hall. The floorboard creaked as she stood on it. The man and woman turned around at once, and the woman took two steps and was in front of Elena and Logan. "You two," she said, voice harsh.

The man turned and walked out of sight. "There's nothing around here for miles," said the woman in a low voice. "If either of you think you're getting out of this house, you're tragically wrong. Do you understand?"

With that said the woman started to turn away. "Who's Elijah?" asked Elena. Logan elbowed her in the ribs.

The woman looked from Elena to Logan, and back again. "He's your worst nightmare," she said to Elena, before moving off.

When the woman was several yards down the hallway Logan rounded on Elena. "Don't be an idiot!" Logan said, not really caring at this point if the man or the woman heard. "I'm not too keen on dying today, thanks!"

Elena briefly closed her eyes. Then she said in a quiet and forceful voice, "Logan, you don't understand what's going on—"

Logan folded her arms. "That's right I don't," she said. "Explain it to me."

Elena was starting to look like a cornered animal. She put her hand to her forehead and glanced down the hallway the Englishwoman had gone down before looking back at Logan. "I'll explain it later," she said with a tone that indicated the discussion was over. This tone reminded Logan greatly of her mother. "I want answers right now."

"I really don't think she's going to give them to you," said Logan.

"We'll see," Elena answered. She turned and walked down the corridor, following the woman to another room.

Logan debated going back and lying down on the loveseat. Then she decided that she didn't want to be alone in a possibly haunted house, with that man unoccupied in a nearby room, and went after Elena.

Elena stood in the doorway of another gargantuan room. This one had a couple of desks, and several stacks of old books lying around. Logan spotted yellowing papers sticking out of a few of them. "What am I doing here?" Elena asked.

"I want to know too," said Logan with a bit of an attitude. She was hungry and tired, had a headache, had no clue what was going on, had missed taking her medication this morning, and was probably missing her literature test. And now Elena was being mildly bitchy.

"You keep asking me these questions like I'm going to answer them," said the Englishwoman. She switched on a lamp and turned to walk across the room.

"Why won't you?" asked Elena.

Logan huffed in annoyance to herself. She walked past Elena in the doorway and entered the room. There was more daylight lighting up this one than the other. Logan squinted at it, then walked over and seated herself on a sturdy-looking stack of grimy books. She figured she was going to have to get her dress dry-cleaned anyway. "I figure you don't want to answer because we're your hostages," said Logan dryly.

"She's got it," said the woman, pointing at Logan.

"Well, it's not like we can go anywhere," said Elena, visibly and audibly growing irritable. The woman didn't seem to notice; she went about stacking up boards against the windows, blocking out more of the sunlight. "The least you can do is tell us what you want with us."

"I personally want nothing," said the woman, walking back over to a desk covered in books. "I'm just a delivery service."

This was sounding more and more like human trafficking by the second. Maybe Elijah was a codename for someone with a much more fitting name. "Delivery to who?" asked Elena, stepping down and taking a couple of steps into the room. "Elijah?"

The woman kind of laughed. "Two points to the eavesdropper."

"Who is he?" Elena persisted. "Is he…" She looked toward Logan, who blinked innocently back at her. She swallowed, considered, and then seemed to make a decision. "Is he a vampire?"

"Whoa," said Logan, raising her hands. "Hold up. What?"

The woman turned around to look at Elena, then at Logan. "He's one of the vampires," said the woman, looking back at Elena. "The Originals."

"What d'you mean, the Originals?" asked Elena.

"What do you mean, _vampires_!?" shrieked Logan. She shot upright, and then regretted it as it made her head hurt more; but there were more pressing matters at hand. "I don't know if either of you got the memo, but vampires aren't real!"

"Logan," said Elena.

The woman kind of laughed again. "Well, well," she said, looking toward Elena with some amusement. "It seems you've kept your friend out of the loop."

Logan turned toward Elena. "What loop, Elena?" she demanded.

Elena visibly steeled herself. "Vampires are real," she said, throwing one of her hands in the air. It smacked back against her leg as she turned around and lifted her other hand to grip her hair. "Vampires are real, all right?" She turned back around to watch Logan expectantly.

"I'm one," offered the Englishwoman.

Logan stared at Elena, and then at the Englishwoman. Slowly she reached up and tapped her teeth. "Oh, you want to see fangs?" asked the lady, clearly growing further amused. "All right then."

In a split second she was standing in front of Logan, who jumped; and then her eyes started to darken. Veins seemed to pop out under her eyes, making them look like purple bruises. She opened her mouth and snarled at Logan, revealing a set of glistening white fangs. Logan stumbled backward and landed flat on her ass.

"Rose!" shouted Elena, halfway across the room.

"Relax," said Rose, the English vampire, as she turned away from Logan. "I just wanted to give her a little scare is all." She shot Logan an amused look over her shoulder.

Logan just stared at her. She realized that her mouth was open. She slowly turned to stare at Elena, whose overly fearful expression now made sense. Then she looked back at Rose, who had returned to casually moving books around on the desk.

Rose was a vampire. Vampires—were real. _Twilight_ might have actually happened. And a vampire had just threatened to suck Logan's blood.

Logan screamed. Then she threw a miniature tantrum, kicking stacks of books across the floor and holding her hair with her hands. She stamped her feet against the ground. "Shut her up!" Logan heard Rose shout.

In a second Elena was across the room and standing in front of Logan, her hands on Logan's shoulders. "Logan, shh, calm down," said Elena frantically. "It's fine, I'll explain everything later, okay? You have nothing to be afraid of."

"What!" Logan shrieked in response. "Nothing to—_what_!" She grabbed Elena's shoulders in response. "Elena, vampires can suck the blood out of your veins! Your heart will stop beating! Vampires are lethal, Elena!"

"I'm very aware," said Elena sharply. "Please stop yelling, Rose will knock you out."

Logan drew in a deep breath. She released Elena's shoulders and looked down, bringing her knees to her chest so she could put her head between them. She really did not care that she was wearing a dress, or that if Elena moved Logan would have been flashing Rose. What she cared about was the fact that vampires were real—vampires existed—and Elena hadn't fucking told her.

"How long have you known?" Logan asked calmly, raising her head.

Elena bit her lip. She withdrew as well, letting Logan's shoulders go. "Stefan's a vampire," she decided to say.

"He—" Logan stopped and shook her head. It made it throb harder but she just could not fathom this. "You've been pulling a Bella Swan and you didn't think to tell me?"

"I was trying to protect you," Elena said, taking a small step toward Logan. "I didn't want you to get hurt. We've all been in trouble since—"

"Wait, wait," said Logan, lifting a hand to stop her. "We? Who's the royal we?"

Elena looked increasingly nervous. She looked over her shoulder at Rose, like the woman would help her explain. "Um," said Elena, voice getting quieter, "everyone else…kind of knows."

"Caroline," said Logan. Elena nodded. "Bonnie." Another nod. "Jeremy." Yet another. "Damon? Matt?"

"Matt doesn't know," said Elena quickly. "Neither does Tyler."

"Well, thank God for that," said Logan with a great deal of bitterness. She eyed Elena distastefully. "I can't believe you didn't tell me." She rubbed her hand over her face and then leaned over on a pile of books. "Just go back to asking questions, I don't want to look at your face right now."

Elena frowned. "Logan—"

"Nope," said Logan, closing her eyes and holding up her hand.

There was a sigh. After a moment Logan heard footsteps, and presumably Elena turning back to look at Rose. "Will you explain the Originals?" Elena asked.

"Again with the questions," said Rose. "Haven't the Salvatores been teaching you your vampire history?"

"Is Damon one?" asked Logan when it occurred to her.

She could almost feel Elena fidgeting. "Yes," said Elena reluctantly. "Rose—you know Stefan and Damon?"

"I know of them," said Rose. "About a hundred years back a friend of mine tried to set me up with Stefan. She said he was one of the good ones. I'm more of a sucker for the bad boys, though, but I digress."

"Who are the Originals?" Elena asked in irritation.

There was a deliberate pause, followed by a light sigh. "Trevor and I have been running for five hundred years," said Rose. "We're tired. We want it over. We're using you to negotiate ourselves out of an old mess."

"But why _me_?" was Elena's follow-up question.

"Because you're a Petrova doppelganger," said Rose. For a split second Logan thought she was speaking another language; then what she had said registered. Logan opened her eyes and rubbed at them—her makeup would smudge but at least it would look more smoky-eye than anything—before focusing on the two standing in front of her. "You're the key to breaking the curse."

Elena looked confused, but probably not as much as Logan felt. "The curse," she said. "The sun and the moon curse?"

"Oh, you _do_ know your history," said Rose.

"What do you mean, I'm the key?" queried Elena, stepping closer to Rose. "The moonstone is what breaks the curse."

"No," said Rose. "The moonstone is what binds the curse. Sacrifice is what breaks it."

Logan let out a startled guffaw. She tried to stop herself halfway through and ended up wheezing oddly. Neither Rose nor Elena paid her any attention. "Sacrifice," said Elena slowly.

"The blood of the doppelganger," said Rose. "You're the doppelganger. Which means, in order to break the curse, you're the one that has to die."

Elena and Rose stared at each other for a good minute. Logan sighed and started rubbing her temples. "So what am I doing here?" she asked. Rose turned back toward her. "I'm not identical to her, so I can't be a doppelganger."

"Correct," said Rose. "You're leverage, in case this one"—here she gestured at Elena—"tries to run." She shot Elena an I-have-you-now smirk.

"Also," said Trevor, waltzing into the room, "our guy couldn't get her alone." He nodded at Elena.

Elena shook her head. "Just—tell me more about the curse," she said, turning back toward Rose.

"Captivity has made her pushy, eh?" said Trevor. He picked up a rather large wooden board. "What d'you wanna know, doppelicious?" He walked forward to block out more sunlight, placing the board carefully over the window.

"Who are you running from?" asked Elena.

"The Originals," said Trevor.

Logan recognized the look of irritation on Elena's face. "Yeah, she said that," said Elena. "What does it mean?"

"The first family," said Trevor, taking a few steps toward Elena and kicking a book across the room. Elena flinched, which was probably Trevor's intention. "The old world," Trevor continued. "Rose and I pissed them off."

"Mm-mm," said Rose.

"Correction," said Trevor at once, as he wandered toward the other window in the room, "I pissed them off, Rose had my back"—here he pointed at her with a book he'd just picked up—"and for over half a millennium they've wanted us dead." To punctuate this he hurled the book at Elena's feet.

Elena jumped backward, startled even though she had to have seen it coming. "What did you do?" she asked.

Logan covered her ears. She didn't want to know this information. Maybe these two would think that they had shared too much information, and wouldn't want to let Logan or Elena ever leave. Perhaps Elijah was the kind of man—Original vampire; how weird—to keep things close to his vest.

She heard Trevor, Rose, and Elena talk for a few more minutes, but their voices were somewhat muffled. Logan looked down to rearrange her dress. She really wished she'd worn her flats to the stupid masquerade party.

The masquerade party! _Oh, shit,_ thought Logan, eyes widening. Without thinking about it she covered her mouth with one hand. She couldn't believe it—Owen probably hated her. Either that or he thought she'd blown him off, having met another man. In fact, thought Logan, he'd probably just be melancholy about it. That made her feel worse. She hoped he was angry.

Logan was not nearly as worried about her parents. Her mother was too often self-absorbed to pay attention to what her children were doing; this was ironic due to the various rules in the O'Shaughnessy household, such as no calls before 9 AM or after 10 PM, no dating until sixteen, and no boys in the bedroom. Even if the boys were Owen, who, if Logan's mother ever bothered to notice, had less than no chance.

Not to mention the literature test Logan knew she was missing today. She balled her hand up into a fist and slammed it down on top of a book. A cloud of dust floated upward, making her sneeze. When she looked up, rubbing at her itching nose, she saw that Trevor and Rose were vacating the room.

_No, don't,_ thought Logan vaguely. She wasn't sure she wanted to be left alone with Elena. "Logan, you have to talk to me at some point," said Elena, turning toward Logan with a semi-pleading look on her face. "I'm sure you have questions."

"Nope," said Logan. She struggled to her feet with the assistance of the stack of books beside her; once she was standing she clapped her hands together to rid them of the dust. "If I ask you questions, you'll probably lie about the answers."

"I was trying to help you!" said Elena. "I don't want you to get hurt!"

Logan snorted. "It's a little too late for that, Elena," she said. She reached up to rub at her head, which was aching magnificently at this point. "Whatever. We can discuss this later, okay?"

Elena fidgeted with her sleeves, clearly uncomfortable, but nodded. She looked around then and reached up to push a curtain of straight dark hair over one shoulder. "Let's go back to the other room," she suggested. "There isn't anywhere to sit in here."

_Yeah, nowhere but the big-ass floor,_ thought Logan, but as this was not a very peaceable comment she kept it to herself. Instead she nodded at Elena, who smiled politely and somewhat apologetically back before turning to lead the way out of the room.

Logan raised her eyes to the ceiling to pray before walking after Elena. As she walked her head throbbed and she started to stumble; by some miracle of God she managed to catch herself. This wasn't good, Logan thought, even as she trailed after Elena into the hall and then back into the other massive room. She couldn't tell if she was going to faint due to starvation or dehydration. There was no way to tell how long it had been since she'd eaten crab puffs and snuck a glass of champagne at the masquerade party.

Elena was the first to cross the room and sit on the loveseat. Logan was slower to reenter the room, and instead of walking back to sit down beside Elena she seated herself on the stairs. She leaned back, propping her elbows against the old wooden stair, and closed her eyes, thinking about it. She couldn't believe Damon was a vampire. She couldn't believe _Stefan_ was a vampire. It was—it was insane.

Okay, maybe the Damon one made some sense. He'd always had the crazy-eyes thing going on, and Logan could certainly picture him sporting a snappy suit on a London street corner, misty fog swirling around him and scattering orangey light from a streetlamp. Yes, he was definitely a vampire. Now that Logan understood what he was she couldn't figure out how she'd never seen it before.

Man did she feel dumb. Logan was glad Tyler and Matt didn't know. "Hey," said Elena, from over by the loveseat.

"What?" asked Logan.

"Come here," said Elena. Logan could have sworn she heard the crinkling of paper. "Bonnie sent us a message."

"How the hell did she do that?" Logan opened her eyes and sat up; then she gripped the wooden rail to lift herself to her feet. She resumed walking down the stairs on shaky legs. "Let me guess," Logan added, as she strode across the room to reach Elena. "She's some kind of supernatural creature too."

Elena bit her lip. Then she slowly nodded. Logan threw her hands into the air and fairly flung herself into the corner of the loveseat opposite Elena. "She's a witch," said Elena. "All that psychic stuff she went on about at the beginning of the year was kind of true."

Logan actually flinched upon hearing that. Elena studied her, but Logan wasn't about to tell her what was going on—apparently Elena didn't like to keep Logan updated.

This past summer Logan, Bonnie, and Caroline had lazed around at Caroline's neighborhood pool together. Well, Caroline had been a lifeguard, and they'd used her membership to get in. All three of them had tried inviting Elena every time, but Elena always turned them down without fail. She'd just lost her parents in a terrible car crash; of course she wouldn't want to hang out.

Regardless, on one particular sultry July day, Bonnie and Logan had been splayed out on their respective towels on the side of the pool. It smelled like chlorine and sunscreen, and little kids were splashing around while Caroline shouted at one of them from her stand. Logan was reading a historical fiction and semi-fantasy novel set in the regency era of England. It might have qualified as horror.

"Oh, shit," Bonnie had blurted out of nowhere. Then she'd shot upright and started flinging her magazine around.

Logan snickered and squinted up at Bonnie—she'd taken her sunglasses off to read. "What is it?"

"A bee," said Bonnie, with a huff of annoyance. After she peered around for a moment, eyes narrowed, she slowly lowered herself back to the ground. "Well, it was a bee." She set her magazine down and started to flip it open again.

Logan looked back at her own book, mildly amused. In the next second, though, Bonnie had reached out to snatch up Logan's tote bag. "I'm bored," Bonnie announced. She sat back up and plopped the bag in front of her to dig through it. "Do you have a word search?"

"No way," said Logan, a smile spreading across her face. Bonnie usually mocked her fondness for word searches and crossword puzzles. Her taste in music—purely classical—was usually mocked as well; Caroline had even declared last year that Logan was secretly a grandpa. "You're resorting to crosswords?"

"Yes I am," said Bonnie. She frowned. "It's sad, I know." She stopped, a curious look crossing her face, and then pulled out Logan's red iPod shuffle. Bonnie held it up and studied it.

"Uh," said Logan, drawing out the word.

Bonnie suddenly gasped and dropped it back into the bag. Logan pushed herself up, leaning on her elbows. "It's going to happen this year," Bonnie had said in a funny voice. "Dreams are coming."

A second later she'd turned to look at Logan, nonplussed. "What?" Bonnie asked.

"Give me that," Logan said, snatching her bag from Bonnie. Bonnie rolled her eyes and started to stand up. Logan dug her iPod shuffle out of her bag and plugged one of her earphones into her ear. An old Natasha Bedingfield song was playing.

"I'm going to buy a smoothie," Bonnie decided, already straightened up. "That concession stand guy is cute." She grinned at Logan. "I bet I'll get his number."

"Bon," said Logan, sitting up; but Bonnie was already gone, walking away around the pool. Logan stared after her, the song still playing in her ear. _What the actual fuck,_ Logan had thought, complete discomfort spreading through her.

Now Logan reached up to rub her temples. She leaned forward, about to drop her head down between her knees. "Everything she's said to me has come true," said Elena, somewhat gingerly now. "Anyway, here."

Elena shoved the note into Logan's nearest hand. Logan managed to grab it; then she straightened up a little to read it. _Stefan and Damon are coming for you. —B_

"Hope it's for me too," said Logan, thrusting the note back toward Elena.

"I'm sure they are," said Elena patronizingly.

Logan didn't bother replying. Instead she leaned over and tried to make the ache blossoming in her head go numb.

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><p>AUTHOR'S NOTE | Thank you guys so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites! :D I'm so glad people are enjoying this! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as well! :) Ah, and just exactly what Bonnie's prophecy meant will become clear later :3 I hope y'all have a great weekend!<p>

DISCLAIMER | I don't own _The Vampire Diaries_.


	3. don't

**CASTLE OF THE ROSE**

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><p>CHAPTER THREE | DON'T<p>

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><p>Logan had lost all concept of time.<p>

The severity of the throbbing in her head had doubled rather than lessened, and she was hard-pressed to even look up when she heard someone walk into the room. She listened idly to shuffling and scraping, perhaps the shifting around of books or papers. Logan could feel Elena move from time to time. Every one of these tiny movements was like an earthquake, reverberating around in Logan's head.

She was fairly certain she had a concussion.

Logan didn't look up until she heard quick footsteps enter the room, followed by an announcement from Trevor: "He's here." Logan struggled to sit up at that and squinted around, her eyes adjusting to the dimly lit room. She looked over at Elena, who offered her a reassuring smile. Then she located Rose, who was hovering a few feet away over a threadbare armchair. There was a black duffel bag in it.

Trevor came clattering down the stairs into the room. He was clearly panicking as he strode toward the loveseat. "This was a mistake," he said, gesturing with his hand.

"No, I told you I would get us out of this," said Rose. "You have to trust me."

"No!" shouted Trevor. Logan winced and rubbed her head. "He wants me dead, Rose!" Trevor started to quickly pace around a fallen chandelier in the middle of the room.

Rose was starting to look slightly panicky as well. "He wants her more," she said, pointing at Elena.

"I can't do this," said Trevor. "You give her to him, he'll have mercy on you, but _I_ need to get out of here!"

Okay, thought Logan, turning to look at Elena. Logan was fairly certain Trevor was a vampire. This Elijah guy had to be scary for a vampire to be afraid of him. Elena gave her a wide-eyed look back; then she reached out and took Logan's hand to squeeze it. Logan half smiled back at her. She was glad she wasn't here alone, even if Elena was a dirty liar.

Rose was comforting Trevor as well. She'd gone forward to take his hands. "Hey," she was saying, as Trevor panted. "What are we?"

Trevor stared at her, breathing heavily. He closed his eyes for a second to get a grip on himself; then he nodded slightly. "We're family. Forever."

A split second after he said this, a loud knocking rang throughout the house. Elena released Logan's hand and straightened up. Logan looked back toward the double staircases leading out of the room, praying silently that she and Elena would make it out of this alive and well. She also prayed for Rose and Trevor, and even Elijah, because it couldn't hurt.

Logan was sure she should have been more worried about her life than Elena. Elena was the Petrova doppelganger; everyone wanted her. Logan was expendable, collateral damage at best. "You're scared," the Petrova doppelganger now observed of Rose. _No shit_.

Rose glanced back at Elena before turning toward Trevor. "Stay here with them," she said. "And don't make a sound." Rose ran back off up the stairs, shoes clattering as she went. Logan stifled a sigh. She hoped whatever plan Stefan and Damon had wasn't half-baked, and wouldn't involve anything too loud.

Trevor began to pace nervously. Elena stood as well, and took a couple of pacing steps. Logan didn't have the energy to bother. Instead she sat there and stared at the hallway above the double staircases, waiting for their uncertain doom to appear.

Well, Logan found herself thinking, at least she was dressed nicely for the occasion. She snickered to herself somewhat hysterically and Elena gave her a sharp look. Logan shrugged half-heartedly at her. Elena had no room to criticize; she even had yet to explain the dried bloodstains on her shirt. Logan felt entitled to do what she liked.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway above the double staircases. Logan looked down briefly to adjust her dress. It was somewhat dusty and grimy now, but she supposed it was as suitable as it would ever be at this point. Logan prayed to God that Elijah was not the demented head of a human trafficking ring.

Rose walked in first. Elena twirled around to look as the man who had to be Elijah appeared in the doorway. Elijah stopped, staring at Elena; Logan stared blankly at Elijah. There was no way he could be in any kind of crime ring. He was well-dressed in a suit and had a hairstyle that was so not worthy of federal crime (outside being way too attractive to be legal).

Elena gave a little gasp: and out of nowhere Elijah appeared directly in front of Elena. Elena was panting terribly. Logan rubbed at her eyes and then looked up to watch the interaction. Elijah stepped forward, awfully close for a first meeting, and, to Logan's surprise, bent his head down to audibly sniff Elena's neck. And that was awfully sensual for a first meeting, Logan thought, alarmed and mildly jealous. He lifted his head and seemed to stare off into space over Elena's head. "Human," he said in a low voice. "It's impossible."

No, Logan thought, it was quite possible. Her eyes widened as she watched Elijah kind of look down at Elena, whom he was at least three inches taller than. He smirked a little. "Hello there," he said, like she was a scared rabbit. Indeed, her breathing made her sound so.

Then Elijah stepped back. Elena let out a whooshing breath of relief. Elijah looked at her for a moment longer—and then he turned and looked straight at Logan.

Something seemed to click into place, and Logan had no idea what; all she knew was that she felt slightly less lost than she had a moment ago. Elijah was far more attractive than Logan had originally thought. He was like—what _was_ he like? He was a mythical creature and a sharp-dressed man; was he perhaps comparable to the Adam version of the Beast? He certainly seemed to be into the captivity idea.

_And I would not mind,_ thought Logan, staring stupidly at him. "And who are you?" asked Elijah, taking a step toward Logan.

Elena stepped to the side, breaking Logan and Elijah's intense eye contact. Logan quickly rubbed her eyes again. There was no way a guy that good-looking existed. She must have been hallucinating. "She has nothing to do with this," said Elena, voice shaking slightly. "You only need me."

"She's leverage," said Rose from across the room. "In case the doppelganger needed it."

"She's also sitting right here," said Logan, raising her hand. Elijah side-stepped around Elena and stopped directly in front of Logan's knees. Logan nodded seriously at him and held up her hand. "Logan O'Shaughnessy," she said.

Instead of shaking her hand, as Logan had assumed he would do, Elijah actually lifted her hand enough that he could lower his head and kiss it. He maintained mesmerizing eye contact the entire time. _Oh, no,_ thought Logan, feeling her stomach flutter and a blush start to creep up the back of her neck. "Pleasure," said Elijah, releasing her hand. "Elijah Mikaelson."

He was a prince. There was nothing else to it. It was truly unfortunate that Elena was far more likely to be the princess than Logan—after all, everyone wanted her, and that was just for her looks. None of these people knew her naturally compassionate, self-sacrificing, and protective personality. Logan, on the other hand, considered herself misleadingly polite, a sham of a Catholic, and far more likely to accidentally get herself killed, whether in the hopes of protecting someone or not.

In the next second there were two of the lovely-looking princes. "Whoa," said Logan, propping her elbow up against her thigh in order to drop her head and rub it furiously with her hand. She squeezed her eyes shut as she did so. "Do you have an identical twin?"

"No," said Elijah, sounding mildly perplexed.

"Welp," said Logan with a grimace, "I'm seeing two of you." She propped her other elbow up against her other thigh in order to massage her temples with both hands. She could feel a roiling in her stomach that had nothing to do with Elijah's face, or the thought of his mouth on her skin; she knew it came before she vomited. Logan was terrible at maintaining composure with migraines.

"What's wrong with her?" asked Elijah.

"I don't know," said Rose.

There was a moment of silence. Logan lowered her head further and prayed she wouldn't throw up on the pretty guy's suit. "You'll both come with me," Elijah decided. Logan had to assume this meant her and Elena. "We'll leave now. We have a long journey ahead of us."

"Please," begged Elena, who sounded close to tears. "Don't let him take us. Logan—Logan's hurt!"

"That can easily be remedied," said Elijah. This sounded strangely threatening. Logan furrowed her eyebrows and wondered about that voice of Elijah's. It was sophisticated and chocolatey, perhaps velvety even, but had some odd lilts, like he'd lost a British accent. Logan was still thinking about this when someone touched her right arm.

Logan opened her eyes and looked up. Elijah was standing there expectantly. The room seemed to be swirling slightly, but there weren't two full figures anymore—just an extra shadow peeking out from behind Elijah's side. "Come on," said Elijah, holding out his hand.

Logan blinked at him, and then looked down at his hand a beat too late. It wasn't like she had any other options—and she preferred the princely beast to the country hobo—so she put her hand in Elijah's and let him help her to her feet.

Once she was there Elijah released her hand. Elena darted around him to take Logan's arm and steady her. "One last piece of business," said Elijah, stepping back from the two girls, "and we're done."

He turned on his heel, dark brown eyes flicking toward Logan's again as he did; then Elijah was taking a couple of slow steps toward Trevor. Trevor seemed to have tried to put the broken chandelier between he and Elijah. "I've waited so long for this day, Elijah," said Trevor, who seemed to be both trying to keep his head down and look at Elijah. "I'm truly very sorry."

"Oh, no," said Elijah. He paused in his pacing—he seemed to be circling Trevor like a panther. "Your apology is not necessary."

"Yes," said Trevor, staring at the ground now as Elijah walked around him. "Yes, it is. You trusted me with Katerina, and I failed you."

Logan blinked hard. The double shadows of everything she saw were starting to extend further. "Oh, yes," said Elijah quite casually. "You are the guilty one. And Rose aided you because she was loyal to you—that I honor." Elijah had arrived in front of Trevor again, and now he stood in front of him. "Where was your loyalty?"

She could not have been imagining the lethal undertone. "I beg your forgiveness," Trevor half whispered.

"So granted," said Elijah. And then he slapped Trevor's head clean off.

Logan was not a squeamish girl, but her stomach did not take kindly to seeing a man's head several yards away from his separated body. It was made worse by Rose's shrieking in the background. Elena gasped and tugged Logan closer, holding her arm. Logan covered her mouth with one hand and leaned over slightly, trying to focus on a knot in a floorboard rather than think about what had just happened.

At least that decided one thing: Elijah was most certainly the Beast. "You—" a fairly hysterical Rose started to say, stepping toward Elijah.

"Don't, Rose," said Elijah, looking up from straightening his cuff. "Now that you are free." He looked up toward Rose for a moment, who was wheezing rather horribly. Then he turned back toward Logan and Elena. "Come," he said, extending his hand toward them.

"I'd listen," Logan managed to say.

"Wh—what about the moonstone?" Elena blurted. She tightened her grip on Logan's arm; Logan straightened up further and squinted at Elijah, who was stepping closer again. His casual attitude was not comforting. Neither was Elena's trembling, desperate grab for anything useful.

Elijah looked mildly irritated. "What about the moonstone?" he asked.

"I—I know that you need it," Elena stammered. "And I know where it is."

"Yes?" said Elijah.

"I can help you get it," said Elena.

Oh, thought Logan somewhat giddily. She was hardly paying attention to the situation anymore; she was too busy watching Elijah's double come into view. Neither Elijah seemed very keen on listening to Elena. "Tell me where it is," he said.

"It doesn't work that way," said Elena.

"I think it does," said Logan, who felt as though her eyes were crossing.

"Are you negotiating with me?" asked Elijah, with a half infuriated and half disbelieving tone. Both Elijahs turned.

"It's the first I've heard of it," said a teary Rose from the stairs.

Ah—the stairs. Logan wondered if, since there had been two sets before, there would be four now. That would look awfully silly. The two staircases had looked rather ridiculous to start. Not that any of this house was particularly good-looking.

What was she even thinking about? Logan had completely lost track of the conversation and what was happening. There were too many objects and people floating around in her vision now and it took most of her concentration not to throw up. She did notice when Elijah took her arm on one side and Elena's on the other to start leading them across the room.

Elena seemed to be struggling, judging by the pathetic sounds she was making. Logan just concentrated on walking: right, left, right, left, right, left. Somehow they all reached the hallway, and then what looked like a grand old foyer. Logan couldn't really tell. There seemed to be two elephantine staircases leading up to a second floor, which meant there was probably actually one.

There were sounds like rushing wind, and Logan blearily watched Elena and Rose stand a few feet away; Elijah tightened his grip on her arm, but not to a point of discomfort. He said something. Logan closed her eyes and focused on praying to the Lord for—for anything.

Oh, no. It was coming. Logan started to gag and had to slap her hand over her mouth. In the next second she definitely felt air rushing past. It suddenly seemed to be too much effort to open her eyes at all. In fact, it would have been much better to just lay here on the cold ground and go right to sleep, where she could exist peacefully in dreamland and avoid throwing up or seeing double or kidnapping by vampires…

So she did.

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><p>AUTHOR'S NOTE | Thank you guys so much for reviewing, favoriting, and following! :D I hope you all enjoyed this new chapter!<p>

DISCLAIMER | I don't own _The Vampire Diaries_.


	4. matter

**CASTLE OF THE ROSE**

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><p>CHAPTER FOUR | MATTER<p>

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><p>This was the true day from hell. The masquerade party had nothing on it. Logan would have much rather been forced to dance for three straight hours with Owen, with Tyler watching and laughing and Elena whispering secrets to Caroline and Bonnie, than have woken up in what appeared to be an unidentified basement.<p>

The first thing that happened when Logan returned to the land of the living was that she smelled mold and mildew. A second later her eyes shot open and she found herself staring straight at Elijah Mikaelson. Logan squeaked automatically and went to move backward, but her back was already against a wall.

"Don't be afraid," said Elijah. He had shaken her awake, Logan realized; now he released her shoulder and stood back. "I will not harm you."

"So says the man who literally slapped someone's head off," said Logan, before she realized she was saying it aloud. She immediately looked up at Elijah with a bit of a wince. It was quite dark down here, in what Logan had to assume was the cellar, but she managed to make out what she thought might have been a mildly amused expression.

Then again, she had been the one hallucinating doubles, so she probably shouldn't trust anything she thought right now. "In all seriousness," said Elijah, putting his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, "what is wrong with you?"

Logan sighed. She reached up and rubbed her eyes, and then put her hand back to help herself climb to her feet. "Would you like that list alphabetically or chronologically?" Judging by the look Elijah gave her he was not amused. "I don't know," Logan admitted. "My best guess is a concussion." She frowned and reached up to feel the back of her head. After a few seconds she found a sizable bump.

That was interesting, at least. Logan had certainly had migraines, but she'd never had a concussion before. "Here," said Elijah. Logan watched him in a mixture of curiosity and apprehension as he lifted his own wrist to his mouth and bit into it. Then he held it out toward her with expectancy. "If you drink my blood, it will heal you," Elijah explained. "Go on."

"Um, thanks for the offer," said Logan, "but I think I'd rather suffer." Elijah raised his eyebrows. "I mean—I haven't eaten anything since yesterday and migraines make me throw up, so I really don't think the struggle of getting it down is worth it."

Elijah studied her briefly. "If you're sure," he said after a moment. Logan nodded, and then reached up to press her palm against her right temple. Elijah watched this movement and then stepped back. "Come on," he said, holding out his arm toward her. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me for the time being."

"What happened to Elena?" asked Logan, as she reached out to thread her arm through Elijah's. He began to lead the way back toward, presumably, the cellar exit.

"She was rescued," said Elijah shortly. He glanced over at Logan, who was struggling to decide what to make of this information. "It seems they had forgotten about you, or perhaps did not look hard enough."

Logan stifled a sigh. Figures, she thought. She looked down as she and Elijah reached a flight of stone steps to watch where she put her feet. She wondered if it was Stefan and Damon who had come to Elena's rescue, to save the day for the girl that mattered and was in the loop. She also wondered if her mother had realized that she was missing yet.

This was downright depressing. The thought prompted Logan to realize that she had missed her usual medication this morning. That made her frown. Tanya, her psychiatrist, told her to make sure she had a steady supply of her antidepressants; when Logan was off them for longer than one or two days, she plummeted downward. Not to mention her Claritin.

As if to remind her that she had allergies, Logan sneezed. Then she sniffed and, in rapid succession, almost tripped, leaned heavily on Elijah, regained her balance, and moved up to the next stair. "Sorry," Logan mumbled, tightening her grip on Elijah's arm.

"No apology necessary," said Elijah politely.

Logan could not fathom this guy. He slapped off men's heads and kidnapped teenaged girls, but he was polite and had just offered his own blood to save Logan from a concussion. Personally Logan felt she would have only offered her blood if it was a life or death situation. "Right," was all Logan said.

The two emerged into chilly night air in a few minutes. Elijah led the way up out of the cellar and didn't even pause to close the back doors to it before starting to walk back around the ancient house. Logan wanted to look around, but it was hard enough to see already, and she was fairly certain her heels were about to slip in the grass. Either that or her ankles would give out, having had absolutely enough of these shoes.

Logan decided to think of this as an initiation for any further suffering to come. Bad math test? Try wearing three-inch heels for two days straight. She snickered to herself at the thought. Elijah cast her a curious glance, but Logan looked ahead rather than explain to him that she amused herself consistently with her own wit.

Ugh—and it really was cold out, too. Logan didn't realize she was huddling closer to Elijah until he asked with a trace of amusement, "Cold?"

"Maybe," said Logan.

"We're not far from my car," said Elijah. "I'll have an extra jacket there."

Oh, well. Maybe he wasn't so gentlemanly after all. Perhaps he would be in prince mode, once he'd gotten out of this beastly phase of his. Logan rolled her eyes at herself; she had no clue what she was thinking about anymore.

Elijah's car was small and black. Logan couldn't make out much more of it. She thought it might have been a Honda or a Lincoln. "You should probably lie down in the back," Elijah advised as they approached the car.

"Okay," said Logan. They both paused, and Elijah dug his car keys out of his pocket. "Um, can I ask where we're going to go?"

"Mystic Falls, eventually," said Elijah with a slight sigh. Logan let out a breath, too, but this one was in relief. "I'll have to make a stop or two first." He audibly unlocked his car. "Can you stand on your own?" Elijah asked, looking over at Logan.

Logan glanced back at him. Oh, but he was handsome, particularly in the moonlight. She wanted to run her hand through his hair. "Yeah," said Logan, quickly turning back toward the car and reaching up to knuckle her temple. Man, she was really losing it.

Elijah released her arm and stepped forward to swing open the door to the backseat. "I think I have an icepack," he said. "There's a cooler on the floor back here." He leaned in to shift a few unidentified items around; a moment later he leaned back out, holding a black blazer.

He turned and extended it out to Logan, who took it and said, "Thanks." She slipped into it and tried not to think about the fact that it smelled good. She blamed her current high-running hormones on her lack of medication and sustenance.

After a good bit of shuffling around, Logan sat down in the backseat and leaned over to rummage through Elijah's cooler. He slammed the door to the back shut and walked around the car to open the driver's side and climb in. "We'll be driving for about forty-five minutes before we reach the hotel," said Elijah as he turned on the car.

"Hotel?" echoed Logan stupidly. She found what definitely looked like a bag of blood in the cooler and quickly moved her hand.

"I was not planning to sleep while driving," said Elijah, with a hint of dry humor.

Logan rolled her eyes and dug her hand back into the cooler. She finally came up with the icepack Elijah had been referring to. "I don't know," she muttered as she located a water bottle. "For all I know vampires don't need sleep. Aren't you nocturnal?" Logan jammed the cooler shut and then shot upright, while she fairly slapped the icepack to her head. "Do you sparkle in the sun, or does it kill you?"

Elijah sighed. He turned around, putting a hand on the shoulder of the seat in front of Logan, and glanced through the back windshield; Logan shifted away from his hand, which was rather close to her face. "Did your friends never inform you?" he asked.

"I am well and truly out of the loop," said Logan, as they backed out of the makeshift dirt drive. She realized she hadn't put her seatbelt on when she lurched forward; she shoved herself backward, propping her hand against the passenger's seat in front of her, and then used her free hand to buckle the seatbelt.

"Evidently so," remarked Elijah. He turned back around and shifted gears before starting forward again.

For a minute Logan thought he just wasn't going to answer. She pouted during this minute and turned to watch the dark landscape go by the window. Logan couldn't make out much, just bits and pieces of passing starry sky through rustling treetops. "Vampires," said Elijah, after a few silent minutes had passed, "do not sparkle."

"Thank God," whispered Logan.

If Elijah had heard her he didn't mention it. "Sunlight burns us," he continued. "It is the reaction that prompted the rumor about being nocturnal, as vampires walked in shadows for centuries."

"How did they stop?" asked Logan curiously.

"Witches determined spells they could use on talismans," Elijah explained. "For example, there are daylight rings, or bracelets."

Logan was tempted to ask what he had, but she decided against it. She was probably lucky he wasn't slapping her head from her neck. She leaned back and managed to balance the icepack between the lump on the back of her head and the headrest; then she used her hands to drink about half of the water bottle.

When she was finished, she screwed the cap back onto the bottle and stuck it between her thighs. Then she wiggled around to press the icepack against the back of her head again.

Logan sat there in the back of the quiet car, watching barely distinguishable trees pass by. She started to chew the inside of her cheek; then she realized that she didn't want to accidentally make herself bleed with a vampire driving and quickly stopped. She checked to make sure Elijah was paying attention to the road before struggling to lift her legs up and work her stupid heels off her feet.

Once they were off she tossed them aside. There was a duffel bag on the backseat beside her. Logan glanced over at it and considered opening it. She was really going to get bored just sitting back here, icing her head and doing absolutely nothing.

She started to drum her fingers on her knee. Then she folded her legs up under her like a cat and sort of curled into the car door to rest her head against the cold glass of the window. "Are you British?" Logan asked, when she couldn't stand it anymore.

"No," said Elijah. The vaguely accented way he said it seemed to contest his answer. "You should sleep."

"I don't sleep," said Logan. "Not until at least four."

She watched the back of Elijah's head. It moved a little, like he was starting to tilt it slightly. "You may have to change your habits for this evening," said Elijah. Logan was pretty sure he was being snarky.

"No thanks," said Logan. "I already slept for a few hours."

"That's not very healthy, is it?"

Logan let out a startled laugh. "Sorry," she said somewhat sheepishly a split second later. "But—you're an Original vampire."

"I was human first," said Elijah.

That made Logan feel even stupider. Which was ridiculous, because there was no way anyone could expect her to know these things. Besides, it wasn't Elijah's fault she felt dumb; she wasn't on her antidepressants, her period was impending, her head still hurt, and now she thought her best friends might have actually been her worst enemies.

She leaned forward when she realized she was actually tearing up. Logan adjusted her grip on the icepack and pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. She prayed to God she would hold it together at least until she was home again. "No more questions?" asked Elijah, to Logan's surprise.

Of course now that she didn't want to talk, he did. And he was clearly running the show here. Logan drew in a slightly shaky breath. "What's a moonstone?"

"A transparent rock that strongly resembles a bar of soap."

Logan spluttered out another laugh. She wished she could have seen Elijah's face; she imagined he was smirking. He didn't seem the type to full-on smile. Logan found herself wondering what it would take to get him there. "And what's the sun and moon curse?"

"Where did you hear that?"

"I think either Rose or Elena said it." Logan rolled her eyes. "Not that I currently trust anything Elena says, anyway."

Elijah sounded mildly amused when he responded. "You can trust her on this one," he said. "For the most part. It has been—widely believed by both vampires and werewolves for a very long time that it is a curse that prevents vampires from walking in the sun and keeps werewolves forcibly turning every full moon."

Logan frowned. Elijah was talking about it like it was a myth, but he'd essentially just confirmed that the moonstone was real. "What is the moonstone actually used for, then?"

"Oh, it is used to break a curse," said Elijah. "Just not that one."

"Does that one not exist?"

"No, it does not."

Logan thought about it. She was strongly tempted to keep this information to herself when she was finally home. Elena had been keeping Stefan's vampirism from her for—she didn't even know how long. Damon's, too, Logan realized.

She realized she was clenching her fist. Logan spread her hand back out on her knee. Unlike most people, Logan had nothing against _Twilight_; in fact, she enjoyed the first couple of books and films, and she was a bit of a Kristen Stewart fan, though she was not a Bella Swan fan. It was due to this, and how Logan _knew_ Elena knew it, that Logan was really upset.

For Elena, in dating Stefan, could have been righting all of Bella Swan's wrongs that Logan used to complain about in the eighth grade. Elena had probably shared the vampire information with Caroline and Bonnie at once, too. It made Logan further upset that neither Caroline nor Bonnie had thought this important information to share with her.

In fact, Logan thought, balling her hand into a fist again, Elena had never even shared any good makeout information, either! "I am infuriated," Logan declared, punching the back of the passenger's seat in front of her.

"…All right," said Elijah, after a moment.

"It's not all right," Logan argued at once. "Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie have been my best friends since we met in kindergarten. I have been in school with them since we were _five_. I know all about—Elena getting shoved into cheerleading by her parents and Caroline's insanely awkward first kiss with Ben Jamison and Bonnie's psychic leanings or whatever, which are apparently a thing now."

"And they never told you about vampires," Elijah surmised.

"And they _never told me about vampires!_" Logan exclaimed, pounding the back of the seat again. Then she leaned forward to rest her forehead against the back of the headrest and sighed noisily. "I can handle this information," Logan whined. "I'm the one that actually liked _Twilight_."

Elijah snorted. Logan raised her eyebrows to herself and wondered if that was as close as he got to a laugh. "I never did see any of those," said Elijah thoughtfully.

"Well, they're cute," said Logan. "Just—keep it shallow, and don't try to read meaningful things into it. They're enjoyable that way."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Elijah.

Logan huffed to herself, still thinking about Elena. _That bitch_. She was going to be very angry about this for a very long time. Logan had a tendency to hold grudges. She was still angry with Olivia Conrad for telling Anthony Parkins that she liked him in the seventh grade. "Have you ever met a werewolf?" queried Logan, in a blatant attempt to distract herself.

"Not personally, no," said Elijah. "I have heard, though, that they're starting up again in Mystic Falls."

"Were they extinct?"

"Evidently not."

"Huh," said Logan. She considered for a moment; then she asked, "Do werewolves and vampires hate each other on principle?"

"In a way, yes," answered Elijah. "A werewolf's bite is lethal to a vampire." He paused, and then added with a hint of smugness, "To a normal vampire. An Original is sickened for several hours but will recover."

Logan frowned appreciatively to herself. "You Originals are pretty durable, then."

"That we are," said Elijah.

Logan tried not to think about the sexual comments she could make to this and failed. She was half smirking and half blushing when Elijah asked a few minutes later, "What do you do, if you do not sleep?"

This question did not help to correct her current train of thought. "Crosswords," Logan managed to reply, making sure she only sounded mildly amused. "And word searches. Homework. Projects that aren't due for months." She paused. "I read a lot. And I consider Netflix a very dear, close friend." Logan hesitated again before adding, "A while ago I would drive around, or go to this twenty-four hour diner on the highway. Then animal attacks started happening."

Elijah nodded. Logan watched him out of the corner of her eye. "Animal attacks," he echoed.

"Which were probably vampire attacks," Logan concluded. She heaved a sigh and flopped backward, leaning her head against the headrest again. Then she finally switched hands; her right hand felt frozen solid by the sweating icepack.

"Can you simply not sleep?" asked Elijah.

"Sorta," said Logan evasively. She'd just met the man; there was no way she was going to go into the Freudian details of all her psychological issues with him. Fortunately Elijah seemed to understand this nuance because he didn't press it.

Neither of them said anything for the remainder of the trip. The remainder was only about six or seven minutes; Logan hadn't even realized that much time had passed. She turned to watch the few sights go by as Elijah took an obscure exit ramp to turn into a dinky little town off the highway. It seemed to be made up of a McDonald's, a Trader Joe's, a Wal-Mart, a 7-Eleven, and a Holiday Inn.

Elijah drove straight to the Holiday Inn. Logan dropped the melting icepack into his cooler of blood bags and drank the rest of the water bottle as he pulled into the parking lot. As Elijah parked the car by the side of the building, in front of a row of neatly-trimmed bushes and windows with closed blinds, Logan checked her reflection in her window. She pushed her hand through her hair to make it more suitably messy before deeming it acceptable.

Elijah climbed out of the driver's seat as Logan struggled out of the backseat. Once she was standing in her bare feet on the cold asphalt she reached back in to pluck up her shoes. She would have been fine walking in without the shoes, but she was pretty sure no shoes no shirt no service was probably a thing at this fine establishment.

Her feet protested as Logan shoved them back into her stupid wedge heels. When she had completed this arduous task she slammed the backseat door shut. Elijah was straightening up on the other side of the car, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, cooler in the other hand. He used his free hand to close that door.

Logan followed Elijah along the sidewalk up to the front doors. She glanced up at the mildly cloudy night sky overhead as she did and noted that she could still see Orion—it was the only constellation she knew how to find, due to the Belt. At least that was, in a weird way, somewhat comforting. It was familiar.

The bright lights inside the Holiday Inn felt nearly blinding, particularly with Logan's headache. It wasn't as bad as before, but it was still raging. Logan stopped and squinted down at a few old magazines on a coffee table in the lobby while Elijah checked in at the desk. In what felt like no time at all Elijah and Logan were moving on, walking over to the elevators.

"What floor are we on?" asked Logan, after Elijah punched the call button.

"The third," he said. He glanced over at her and gave her a brief once-over. Well, it was probably supposed to be brief; Logan did notice that his eyes lingered a bit on her legs. "I'm sure I have extra clothes for you to sleep in," Elijah said.

The elevator arrived then. "Yeah, I already said I don't sleep," Logan pointed out. "I will not change habits that have been ingrained for three years because you asked me to with your pretty voice." Elijah smirked as both of them stepped into the empty elevator. Logan turned and hit the button for the third floor. "Anyway, I'll probably wander the halls, like a starving ghost in search of a vending machine."

Elijah's eyes widened almost comically. "I didn't think of that," he said. "I apologize."

"Just give me enough change for a meal and we're even." Sort of. Kidnapping her and forcing her onto a road trip probably made them uneven again. Logan did have to admit, though, that if Elijah hadn't woken her up and gotten her out of that house, she would have had to find her own way home sans cell phone. There might be a couple of detours but at least she knew she'd wind up in Mystic Falls again.

Logan considered this as they arrived at the third floor, and Elijah led the way to their booked room. In a way she was kind of glad that she was with Elijah rather than Elena, Stefan, and Damon. She would have been fourth-wheeling it so hard in that car it wouldn't have been funny. And Elena would have been wheedling and trying to apologize the whole way. Plus, Elijah was an attractive man with a nice voice who actually answered her questions.

For the first time since the day of the masquerade party Logan felt as though she had not received the short end of the stick.

"You can pick which bed you want," said Elijah, once they had located their room and he had unlocked it.

"Okay," said Logan with a shrug. Elijah managed to hold open the door for her with one arm; Logan entered the room and, two feet in, stopped at once to kick off her shoes. Then she bent over to pick them up and resumed padding into the room.

There were indeed—thank God; and Logan really did thank God—two beds. There was an armchair and a tall lamp beside the one on the right. "I'll take that one," said Logan, turning to point at the one closer to the wall and the bathroom. As she saw it Elijah was the one with the supplies; he'd probably want the chair.

Elijah nodded at her and walked over to set his few things down. Logan dropped her shoes onto her bed and turned on her aching heel to walk over into the bathroom to utilize it. She hadn't even realized until then that she hadn't peed since before the masquerade party. She had no clue how she'd been able to go without noticing it for so long.

Well, Logan thought as she washed her hands after using the bathroom, she had been pretty preoccupied. She paused while drying her hands off to consider herself in the mirror. Her hair didn't look half bad, and this was a really cute dress. She reached up to adjust her chest and the strapless bra she was wearing under the dress; then she nodded at herself, thanked God for keeping her safe, and walked back out into the room.

Elijah was standing over his open duffel bag. He glanced up when Logan reentered the room. "We can find a vending machine," he said at once.

"We don't have to," said Logan. "I can just do it." Elijah just looked at her. "Right," said Logan, reaching up to lightly face-palm herself. "How silly of me. I forgot I've been kidnapped." Of course Elijah couldn't trust her not to sprint off and call the police. He didn't know that she was a rational human being—especially not after, Logan was sure, her outburst about Elena's maddening secrets in the car.

And so the odd pair set out to discover. Luckily there were two vending machines at the end of their hallway, along with an ice machine. Logan had thought to grab the ice bucket from their room to bring it with them.

When they reached the vending machines Elijah and Logan switched, so Elijah could fill the bucket with ice and Logan could pick what she wanted out of the machines. She ended up with a stack of junk food, two Gatorades, and a Pepsi. It would be the worst meal she'd had in ages, but it was better than nothing.

"Thanks for this, by the way," said Logan, as the two walked back down the hall.

Elijah gave her a funny look. "I'm not sure I'm worthy of your thanks, Logan."

Logan barely refrained from giggling at the way he said her name. She wished he would say it again. (While kissing her neck, and perhaps pushing her up against a wall.) She really had to stop thinking that way; he was technically her captor. "Well," said Logan, trying not to smile to herself, "you are giving me a ride home, even if it's a roundabout way, and you're actually telling me things that my friends would have kept from me for my own protection, so…"

Elijah glanced at her with a faint smirk. "You're welcome for that part, I suppose," he said, before halting and turning to open the door to their room.

It proceeded to be an uneventful evening. Logan turned on the TV and watched a bad Lifetime movie while Elijah took a shower. He literally brought his car keys and both room keys into the bathroom with him, probably to prevent Logan from attempting some stupid grand escape. When Elijah emerged in a T-shirt and pajama pants with floppy wet hair, Logan hadn't moved an inch from where she'd been sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed before, though there were more wrappers in front of her now.

Logan tried not to stare at Elijah while he went about—whatever he went about. Ugh, but that hair. She couldn't handle it. "People are stupid," Logan announced when a commercial for Windex came on.

Elijah snorted. "Philosophical."

"I should write a book."

Elijah glanced up at her from where he was currently bent over the cooler. Logan nodded seriously at him; he kind of smirked and turned to walk over and sit down in the armchair, blood bag in hand. Now it was even harder not to stare at him, because it was really weird to see someone just casually sitting there, drinking blood like it was a Capri Sun. "And why are people stupid?" Elijah asked, another commercial later.

"This chick," said Logan, gesturing at the television set with her half-empty Gatorade, "literally only has to talk to this guy, and the problem will be solved. The conflict in this is so flimsy it's not even funny. It's just plain sad."

"May I ask why you're still watching it?"

"The only other thing on is _X-Men: Origins_. Again." Logan frowned. "And _Spongebob_."

"Television is illuminating."

Logan glanced at Elijah with increasing amusement. Elijah blinked back at her; he looked a little smirky. "You're funny," Logan told him.

"Thank you," said Elijah. "I think." He finished the blood bag and stood, to cross the room and set it on the desk across from his bed. Logan wondered what he would do with it. She realized it wasn't like he could throw it in the trash can without raising questions—maybe he was going to make a pit stop at a Dumpster.

Logan screwed the cap back onto her Gatorade and turned to swing her legs off her bed. She reached over to pick up the empty wrappers she'd accumulated, stood up, and walked around her bed to throw them in the actual trash can.

When this was done she went in to use the bathroom again; the mirror was still coated in condensation, and the bathroom was still warm. Logan also noted that it smelled like shampoo. She was pleased that it wasn't Axe, because she absolutely hated that stuff.

Logan paused, after washing her hands, to fix her hair again; then she walked back out into the room. "You know," Elijah said when she reentered the bedroom area, "I can compel you to sleep."

"You can what?" asked Logan, as she moved her Gatorades over to the table across from her bed. She threw the empty Pepsi can away.

"Vampires can use compulsion," said Elijah, after a slight pause. Logan glanced toward him. He was probably shocked that she was so in the dark about all of this. "We can—order humans to do what we want."

Logan scoffed. "That's the easy way out," she said.

Elijah looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. "You don't like anything to be easy, do you."

"Well," said Logan, "if everything was easy, we'd all be bored as hell." She raised her half-empty Gatorade bottle in a toast to Elijah, who looked back flatly, unamused.

Logan wiggled back on the bed until she was sitting amongst her various pillows. There she reached forward to pick up the TV remote. She leaned over to set down the Gatorade on the table between the two beds, by the old alarm clock.

In the next second there was a whooshing kind of sound, and Elijah was standing right beside the bed. Logan jumped as Elijah reached out to hold her head, turning it slightly toward him. He looked deeply into her eyes and she stared back stupidly, mesmerized. "You will fall asleep when I tell you," said Elijah. "You will wake when I tell you."

"Okay," said Logan.

Elijah stood there for a second, still holding her head. He had a really nice jawline. Then he released her and stepped back. "Hang on," said Logan, returning to her senses. "What did you just do? What does that mean?"

"Go to sleep," said Elijah.

"I don't—" Logan started; but then she felt awfully tired, more than she ever did, and she shoved the covers out of the way to curl up under them, snuggling into the various pillows at the head of the bed. Something tickled the back of her mind, but she wasn't sure what, and it didn't bother her—she just wanted to sleep…

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTE | Thank you guys so much! :D This is possibly the most reviews I've ever gotten on a chapter of anything! :) I hope you all enjoyed the update! I literally love writing Elijah; he's such a gentleman!<p>

DISCLAIMER | I don't own _The Vampire Diaries_.


	5. though

**CASTLE OF THE ROSE**

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><p>CHAPTER FIVE | THOUGH<p>

* * *

><p>"Wake up."<p>

Logan blinked open her eyes and found herself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. For a moment she just lay there, wondering what the heck her sister Abby had slipped into her drink; then everything came flooding back, including her still faintly irritating headache. And, Logan realized with increasing indignation, Elijah's decision to compel her.

She struggled to sit up and turned to glare at Elijah. He was zipping up his duffel bag across the room, already sporting a new suit. "Excuse me," said Logan, "but I thought I said that compulsion was the easy way out."

"You say that as if I would listen to your opinion," said Elijah.

This stung more than it should have. Logan blinked at him, offended. He was right, of course; he was an Original vampire with his own endgame. She was a puny human with a concussion. "Right," Logan said. She reached up to push her hand through her hair before turning and climbing out of her bed. "How silly of me."

She picked up her Gatorade from the nightstand and padded around the bed, in the direction of the bathroom. On her way she drank the rest of the Gatorade, and then paused outside the bathroom to toss it into the nearby trash can. Inside the bathroom, after using it and washing her hands, Logan stopped and studied herself in the mirror.

She'd been thinking last night that she had, for one of the first times in her life, not gotten the short end of the stick. Now she was starting to wonder. Her head still hurt—and there was no way she'd ever drink that guy's blood—and she really, really needed to take her meds. Plus, when she arrived at home, her mother would jump down her throat asking where she'd been, demanding to know whether or not Logan had been sleeping over at some guy's house for the last two nights. The fact that she didn't have a change of clothes would not help this immediate assumption she was sure her mother would have.

Logan splashed water on her face to wash it, and then spent a good fifteen or twenty minutes scrubbing the rest of her smudged makeup off. She wished she could at least change—even just her shoes. She scowled at herself when she thought about how she'd have to wear her heels again. They'd be grown to her feet by the time this road trip from hell ended.

Logan wondered why everything had to be from hell. Couldn't she have gotten a road trip from heaven? Of course not; Elena had that.

She huffed in annoyance to herself and fixed her bra before marching back out into the room, in a sour mood. Logan plucked up her shoes from the floor to start jamming her feet back into them.

Elijah cleared his throat. Logan refused to look at him. "We should only have one stop before we return to Mystic Falls," said Elijah.

Logan sat up, having just gotten her second foot into her shoe. She turned to look at Elijah in disbelief. "Is that supposed to suffice as an apology?" she asked. "Because I'm still wearing the clothes from the day _before_ yesterday, my feet are killing me, I have a concussion, I've now missed two days of taking medication I have to be on, my daytime sleep schedule is totally screwed, I hate my best friends, I've missed a literature test, I've offended one of the apparently few friends who _don't_ lie to me, and when I get home my mother is going to think I've been slutting my way through the entire grade!" Logan turned to go back to retying her heel; then, as she started to bend over, she suddenly reached up to adjust her cleavage. "And I hate strapless bras!"

With that said she leaned back over and resumed angrily tying her shoes.

There was silence for a moment. Logan was still cross, but she was rather proud of herself for succeeding in making Elijah speechless. Not so smooth now, huh, she thought, yanking the shoelace into a crooked bow. She wondered how Belle could handle the Beast if he was always this infuriating.

"I apologize," said Elijah, at long last. Logan snorted. "I'm serious," Elijah added. "I'm sure you were never meant to be here."

"That's right," said Logan, sitting back up. "Apparently I wasn't even supposed to know you all existed." She waved her hand vaguely at Elijah. "There's nothing to do about it now. Just—don't use compulsion on me ever again, okay?" She looked down and stretched out her legs. "It's creepy."

Indeed, it had been beyond creepy. Logan was fairly certain she could trust Elijah, but having no control over her consciousness was not an area Logan wanted to explore. It pointed toward roads that could end very badly. Lacking control was the main reason Logan never wanted to get drunk.

Logan shivered before she realized what she was doing. Then she snuck a glance toward Elijah to see if he would dare to comment. He caught the look, because he turned to finish zipping up his duffel bag.

Both of them kept up a steady silence as the morning dragged on. Logan walked out the side door to go stand by Elijah's car while he checked out. She leaned against the black Lincoln and squinted up at the sunny cloudless sky. It was a warmish day; Logan actually wished it was a little colder.

She sighed to herself and prayed to God that everyone would survive this. As it was she had no clue how anything was going to turn out. She even prayed that Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie would be fine, too—even though all three of them were dirty liars.

That's it, thought Logan. She was never going to let that go.

The car suddenly unlocked behind her. Logan straightened up and turned around, arms folded. Elijah was approaching from around the front of the hotel. "You can get in," Elijah called, gesturing with one hand at the car.

Logan briefly debated: should she sit in the front or the back? "How far are we going today?" Logan asked, as Elijah drew nearer. "What's the stop?"

"Richmond," said Elijah. He arrived at the car and opened the door to the backseat, where he set down his duffel bag and his cooler. "It's a two-hour drive."

"Are you going to force me to sleep?" asked Logan challengingly.

Elijah gave her a flat look. Logan raised her eyebrows in response. "No, Logan," said Elijah. "I will not compel you again." With that said he slammed the back door, and then took a step to open the driver's side door and climb in.

Logan thought about it for a moment. Then she climbed into the passenger's seat. She swung the door shut and reached for her seatbelt as Elijah clicked his own seatbelt into place and started the car.

Logan waited for a good fifteen minutes before she decided it would be okay to break the silence again. Elijah was probably sick of hearing her voice, and she didn't want to tempt him to force her into slumber. "What's in Richmond?" Logan asked.

"A contact of mine," said Elijah. He kept his eyes on the highway ahead of them. Logan thought he hadn't moved his hands at all since they'd started out. "I suspect your—friends will attempt to trace back through him."

"To reach you?"

"No," said Elijah. "Fortunately they think I am dead." He seemed to see the next question coming, because he said, "Damon Salvatore impaled me with a wooden coatrack. He did not realize that Original vampires cannot be killed by any stake." Elijah paused, then added, "He missed my heart as well."

Logan snorted. "Sounds like Damon," she said, turning to look ahead again. She leaned over to prop up her elbow against the windowsill, and then rest her temple on her fist. "He's not one for negotiations or manners. Or doing a job properly."

"If he had done the job properly," said Elijah, "you would still be wandering in the woods."

"Am I supposed to thank you?"

Elijah didn't answer. Logan rolled her eyes. The car went silent again.

This time Logan let the silence stretch for at least thirty minutes. She turned and watched the landscape pass by. She traced the rolling hills and fields with her eyes and studied the distant blue mountain peaks, along with the woods that sometimes lined the road and silhouetted themselves darkly against the sky.

Logan had never been to Richmond. She'd been plenty of other places—DC and Charlottesville in Virginia, and North Carolina and Maryland, and Canada—but never Richmond. She wondered what Richmond looked like. She imagined it would look similar to DC.

Then something hit her.

"Fuck," Logan groaned, leaning forward and slapping her palms to her temples.

"What is it?" asked Elijah with a surprising amount of alarm.

Logan drew in a deep breath and sat back up. "What day is it?" she asked, though she already knew the answer to her question.

Elijah cast her a frown. "March 26th."

"They're going to kill me," Logan mumbled, sinking back into her seat. She slid down a little and leaned over to rest her head against the cold glass of the window. She wished her head hurt more—she deserved it. She couldn't believe she was missing it—Abby and Ethan were really going to hate her.

Elijah's curiosity was almost palpable. "May I ask who, and why the date matters?" said Elijah.

"You just did," said Logan dryly. She heaved a sigh and leaned back, resting her head against the headrest of the passenger's seat. "My younger sister Abby and my younger brother Ethan are going to kill me. Neither of them can drive yet and we were supposed to go to Arlington today."

"Are you missing a funeral?" asked Elijah cautiously.

"No," said Logan. "It's my big brother's birthday." She closed her eyes briefly and reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. When she dropped her hand again, she opened her eyes and leaned over to resume leaning against the passenger's side door. "I've never missed it before."

This was true. Every year since 2007, Logan, Abby, and Ethan had gone to visit Aaron in Arlington. Before Logan could drive, their mother went with them. Their mother was never too keen on showing actual emotion, though, much less sadness, which meant while Logan, Abby, and Ethan actually visited Aaron, their mother wandered around other graves and pretended to seem interested by their occupants.

After Logan learned how to drive, and after her mother had married Joseph and gotten this heinous last name, her mother just stopped going. Abby and Ethan still wanted to go with Logan, so she brought them. They tended to go after school, and they ate dinner in the city before going home.

Logan prayed Aaron wasn't offended. She also prayed, as she usually did, that he was either in heaven or on his way there. "May I ask?" said Elijah, sounding even more cautious than he had before.

"Afghanistan," said Logan.

"Ah," said Elijah. Logan glanced over at him; she watched him look at the dashboard and then back at the road, then at the rearview mirror. "If my business in Richmond is over quickly," said Elijah, "I will drive you there."

Logan was startled. "You don't have to do that," she said.

"Mystic Falls is only twenty minutes outside DC," Elijah pointed out. "After Richmond, Mystic Falls will be our destination."

Logan considered. "No thank you," she said firmly. She was genuinely touched by the offer, though. And it wasn't like he'd compelled her with dark intentions; he'd compelled her so she would get some sleep. "But seriously, thank you."

Elijah glanced over at her with that little smirk of his. Logan half smiled back at him. "I've lost a brother myself," said Elijah. "Younger, but…"

"Still a brother," Logan finished.

Elijah nodded. He shifted around in his seat for the first time. After changing lanes he said, "In a way I've lost all of my brothers. There were, in the beginning, five brothers, and one sister. My youngest brother was killed by a werewolf. His death prompted our mother to create the Original family."

It was Logan's turn to be intensely curious now. She straightened up and watched Elijah, waiting for him to continue the story. "My brother Niklaus," said Elijah, "took it upon himself to control the rest of our family. He—sent almost all of us into comatose states." Logan saw his knuckles whiten on the steering wheel, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. "He scattered them in the sea."

"Why would he do that?" asked Logan.

"He cannot trust," said Elijah, sparing Logan another look. "He would rather destroy the family than put his life in one of our hands."

Logan frowned. She turned to look out the window again, considering. "He sounds like a prick," she decided.

Elijah, to Logan's surprise, let out a startled laugh. Logan's head snapped toward him. He looked even better when he was smiling, even if it was just another little disbelieving half smile as he shook his head. "He is a prick," Elijah agreed. "Niklaus is the reason I need your friend Elena. If I hold the pieces of the puzzle that Niklaus needs…"

"You can bargain for your family back," Logan concluded. Elijah glanced at her and nodded. "I completely understand."

"Elena would still need to die," said Elijah. "In the ceremony."

Logan looked down at her perfectly-painted black nails. This was a quandary at best. She was angry with Elena, yes, but she would still defend her with her life—there was no doubt in her mind. Logan would protect anyone with such ferocity, if they needed it. She didn't hold her own life in much esteem. "Could we find a way around it?" Logan finally asked.

"Perhaps," said Elijah. "But a solution has never been found before."

"Maybe people haven't spent enough time looking."

"Maybe," Elijah answered distantly. Logan looked toward him; he seemed to be lost in thought now, still staring out the windshield. She wondered what his family members looked like, if all of them had the sharp jawline or the dark eyes.

Logan looked away again when she realized she was staring. She leaned against the car door and looked ahead instead. She did understand where Elijah was coming from, and she wondered what had gotten his brother Niklaus to such a place of distrust that he couldn't even handle trusting his own family. Inevitably, though, her mind jumped to her mother, and her stepfather Joseph. She hadn't told her mother anything she really thought in ages. That was partly why she'd had to go with Owen Melbroke to that masquerade party.

Given the option, though, Logan would never send her mother into a coma and throw her body out to sea. It was such an overreaction that she really could not even begin to fathom it. And speaking of unfathomable events—Logan still couldn't wrap her head around why Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie had never thought she could handle knowing vampires were real. Their lack of faith hurt. It was like a punch in the gut.

Logan stifled a sigh and pushed her hand through her hair. At least she wouldn't be too bored now, during this car trip; she certainly had plenty to consider.

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTE | Wow, guys! Thank you so, <em>so<em> much for the response! :D I'm really happy people like this story! :) I'm sorry for taking so long to update; I hope you enjoyed!

DISCLAIMER | I don't own _The Vampire Diaries_.


	6. cuz

**CASTLE OF THE ROSE**

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><p>CHAPTER SIX | CUZ<p>

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><p>The sun was high in the sky by the time Elijah and Logan rolled into Richmond. Logan struggled to sit up and watched the typical city sights pass by—groups of people on the gritty sidewalks, mannequins dressed fashionably in store windows, and a couple of hotdog stands. There were occasional trees poking up out of the sidewalk. Logan thought they looked sad.<p>

Elijah parked on the outskirts of the city, in a double-sided lot with a foliaged median between both sides. "This shouldn't take long," Elijah said as he turned off the car and unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Am I not allowed to come?" asked Logan.

"No," said Elijah. Logan opened her mouth to protest, and Elijah added, "I am aware that you have been a very good hostage, but without compulsion I have no way of knowing you will do what you say."

Logan huffed in annoyance. "I have to pee."

"Come quickly, then. I'm sure I haven't much time."

Elijah did seem to be rushing around. He ushered Logan along the median, across the street, and straight into the first store in sight. It was a tiny Starbucks knockoff. Logan left Elijah standing by the window at the front of the store and walked to a small hallway in the back, past a few shelves and the glass counter.

Logan found the co-ed bathroom at the end of the corridor. There was another girl waiting against the wall already, so Logan leaned over and folded her arms to wait as well. She glanced around; the place looked fairly clean, anyway, and it smelled good, like coffee and bread. There was a door marked 'Employees Only' directly across from where Logan stood.

Something occurred to her. Logan glanced over at the girl beside her; she was digging through her monster purse. "Excuse me," said Logan to the girl.

"Yeah?" said the girl, looking back at Logan.

"Do you have a cell phone?"

"Sure," said the girl. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Logan, who blinked innocently back. "Do you want to use it or something?"

Logan flashed her a smile. "Yes, please," she said hopefully. "That would be wonderful. You can even stand right here while I use it—I swear I won't steal it or anything. Plus, I need to use the bathroom, I won't leave."

The girl studied her. "Fine," she decided with a shrug. Logan mentally thanked God as the girl reached into her back pocket to pull out an iPhone. "But if you do try and steal this, you're already on the store's cameras."

"Okay," said Logan. She accepted the phone and unlocked it with a swipe. "Thank you so, so much," Logan enthused to the girl, who nodded before turning away again and resuming the search through her purse.

Right—now, who to call? Logan thought about it. She still had no idea what she was going to say to her mother; that was out of the question. Abby and Ethan were both in school. In fact, Logan realized with increasing irritation, everyone would be in school: Elena, Caroline, Bonnie, even Stefan. Damon wouldn't, but Logan didn't know his number.

Logan checked the time. _Oh, thank God,_ she thought when she realized it had to be lunchtime. Elena and the others were probably hanging around outside by the juniors' claimed picnic tables. Logan really hoped she had the school schedule memorized properly as she dialed Elena's number.

The phone rang three painstaking times. Then Elena picked up. "Hello?"

"Elena, it's me—"

"Oh my God!" shrieked Elena. Logan heard a thump and imagined that Elena may have just fallen off the picnic table. "Guys, it's Logan!"

"Put it on speaker!" Logan heard Caroline exclaim.

Elena presumably did so; the phone beeped. "Yeah, I'm fine," said Logan, who was still rather stubbornly offended by the lack of information she had been given for who knew how long. "I'm in a Starbucks ripoff right now."

"Where?" asked Elena breathlessly. "What city or county or state?"

Logan glanced over at the girl whose phone she was using. The girl did seem preoccupied with her purse and was frowning down at it. Whatever she was moving around in there was making alarming clanking sounds. "I probably shouldn't say," Logan said, hoping this didn't sound suspicious to the girl.

"What? Why?" asked Caroline.

"Wait, wait," said Bonnie. "She was kidnapped with you, right?" She had to have been asking Elena.

"Yeah," said Elena.

"Then—" Bonnie started.

"Oh my God!" Elena repeated. Logan folded one of her arms and rolled her eyes. She was tempted to scold Elena for taking the Lord's name in vain so many times in three minutes. "You're with Elijah, aren't you!"

"You guessed it," said Logan. "He's not that terrible of a guy. He's not a very good road trip buddy and he doesn't listen to music, but—"

Logan heard shuffling on the other end of the line. "Stefan!" she heard Elena squawk. "Stefan, Logan just called, she's with Elijah at a Starbucks!"

An unmistakably male voice responded, but Logan couldn't figure out what he was saying. Logan looked around where she was, half expecting Elijah to appear and yank the phone out of her hand. Instead the bathroom's previous occupant exited, and the girl shot Logan a nasty look before flouncing over to enter the bathroom herself.

Logan moved up along the wall and took up standing where Phone Girl had stood before. "Give me the phone," Logan heard Stefan say. In a second he said into the phone, "Logan, are you all right?"

"Fine," said Logan, because now was probably not the time to go into the messy details.

"Listen," said Stefan, "Damon and I looked everywhere for you in that house. We thought Rose took off with you, but then Rose showed up here, and we just didn't know."

Logan wondered if they'd thought she was dead. She did accept this explanation of the reason she'd been left behind, though—she'd never really trusted Stefan or Damon's smarts, and Elijah had evidently stowed her away in some obscure basement. She hadn't been able to scream, either, as she'd been unconscious. "Did you say you were with Elijah?" asked Stefan presently.

"Yeah," said Logan. "Why's that weird?"

"We thought he was dead."

Logan thought about it. Right—Damon had attempted to stake Elijah and failed miserably. "Apparently Original vampires don't die," Logan said. She glanced up and down the little hallway now and drew in a breath. "I'll be back tonight, I think. Tell Elena to prepare some kind of escape; I think I'm the leverage."

"We'll come up with a plan," said Stefan firmly.

"Also, come up with something to tell my mother," Logan added. "Juggle me between sleepovers or something. Tell Owen Melbroke, too."

"We will."

"Thanks," said Logan. She heard the toilet flush and she dropped her free hand to her side. "I gotta go."

"Be careful," Stefan warned.

"Will do, Edward," Logan said with as much bitterness as politeness would allow. She hung up right as the door to the bathroom swung back open. Phone Girl stepped out with an already accusatory expression on her face. "Here you go," said Logan, turning back toward her and offering the phone. "Thanks so much."

Phone Girl took the device back. "No problem," she said, and then walked past Logan to go back out into the store.

Logan walked into the bathroom and went about her business. The bathroom was small and smelled like cleaner, and the hot water handle on the sink was broken, but other than that it was fine. Logan hoped that she didn't look as tired as the mirror made her look. She didn't have any makeup to help.

Oh, well. Logan prayed to the Good Lord that the rest of her weird road trip with Elijah would pass quickly; then she walked back out of the bathroom, flipping off the lights and letting the door swing shut as she did.

Logan found Elijah almost immediately once she walked back out into the store. He was standing over by the glass door with an inscrutable look on his face; and, to Logan's surprise, he was holding a brown paper bag and a bottle of water. "Hey," said Logan upon reaching Elijah. "I should probably just tell you now that I called Elena—just to make sure nobody thought I was dead, and to get them to try and come up with an explanation for my mother."

Elijah looked at her and then nodded. "I'm aware," he said. He held out the paper bag and the water bottle. "Here you are."

"Thank you," said Logan, accepting them and feeling somewhat chagrined for going behind Elijah's back to use the phone. "I didn't tell them where we were or anything, and they were all at school, so they can't track us."

"I know," said Elijah. He turned around and held the door open for Logan, who walked back out into the warmish spring air first. "I listened to the entire conversation."

Logan was momentarily startled. Then she remembered: _Original vampire, right_. "You could have sped over and taken the phone," said Logan cautiously, as she and Elijah paused on the edge of the sidewalk by the street. "Why didn't you?"

Elijah glanced up and down the road both ways before stepping out into the street. Logan quickly moved to keep up with him. "There would have been no point," said Elijah as they strode back toward the median and the double-sided parking lot. "Even if they do attempt to find you this afternoon, you will be home in a matter of hours. Their attempts would lead nowhere."

He did make a fair point. "Thank you," said Logan, as she and Elijah reached his car. "For—not killing me, and food, and stuff."

Elijah looked back at her as he dug his car keys out of his pocket. His lips twitched, like he wanted to smile. "No problem, Logan," he said as he unlocked the car. He swung open the passenger's side door and gestured with his free hand for her to get back in. Logan obliged with no further persuasion.

Instead of closing the door and walking around, though, Elijah stood there with one hand on the open car door, and played with his keys with the other hand. "I'll be walking down the street," said Elijah. "My business shouldn't take long."

He had already said this earlier, but Logan did not feel inclined to point that out. "Okay," said Logan. "Don't die."

Elijah smirked at her. "Thank you for your confidence," he said somewhat dryly. He kind of clapped the top of the car door twice before stepping back, turning around, and walking back over toward the median. Logan turned to stick her legs out the side of the car and watched him go. Man did he look good.

Logan shook her head to herself and opened the paper bag. She was back to thinking that maybe she hadn't gotten the short end of the stick; in fact, she was fairly certain she had the better end of the situation. She might be missing Aaron's birthday, her mother might be highly suspicious, and her friends might have been rotten liars, but her captor was an absolute prince, it was a gorgeous day out, and she didn't have to be in school with the awkward Owen.

Yep, Logan decided. She was coming out of this smelling like a rose.

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTE | Thank y'all so incredibly much for reading! :D You're all beautiful, beautiful people! My Spring Break is about to start, so if the same goes for you, have fun and stay safe! :)<p>

DISCLAIMER | I don't own _The Vampire Diaries_.


	7. someone's

**CASTLE OF THE ROSE**

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><p>CHAPTER SEVEN | SOMEONE'S<p>

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><p>The sky darkened as Logan sat in Elijah's car and waited for him to return. After an hour of waiting, sitting perched on the edge of the passenger's seat and eating the sandwich Elijah had bought her, Logan gave up and stood. She spent another good hour pacing around the median; then she ventured to a couple of clothing stores along the same street, in view of the car.<p>

When Logan exited a store and saw that the sun was setting, she walked back up the sidewalk and crossed the street to the double-sided parking lot. She found the car exactly as she'd left it. Logan sighed to herself and swung open the passenger's side door; then she climbed inside and closed the door.

Logan leaned back and stared up at the ceiling of the car. She wished she at least had an iPod. She would have even accepted a Gameboy at this point. She sucked at video games and she didn't exactly find them thrilling, but she was beginning to feel truly desperate. The only things she could do in the car was go through Elijah's things, which Logan did not feel inclined to do, or sleep.

Or, Logan realized, use a map. Logan twisted around and dug a folded-up map out of the pocket on the back of the driver's seat. She sat back in the passenger's seat and opened the map, flattening out the creases as she did. She started trying to find important locations in Virginia, and then decided to figure out how long it would take to go to different cities in different states.

Another hour found Logan squinting at the map in an attempt to see. This was in vain and she knew it. Logan stifled a sigh and started to fold the map again.

Just as Logan jammed it back into the pocket of the seat, the driver's side door opened. Logan squeaked and jumped, startled; she almost fell off the console, which she had been leaning on with one hand to reach the pocket. "Excuse you," said Logan, as she moved back to flop into the passenger's seat. She pushed her hand through her hair and tried to calm her racing heart.

"I apologize," said Elijah. The little half smirk said that he wasn't very sorry. He pulled his door shut and reached for his seatbelt. "My business is finished here; our next stop is Mystic Falls."

"Good," said Logan with great feeling. She buckled her seatbelt as Elijah turned on the car. "Out of curiosity—and I know I'm probably not allowed to know this—what are you going to do with me when we get there? Because I'd really prefer not to have me or Elena dead…"

Elijah cast her a semi-amused look as he twisted around to look out the back windshield. He seemed to judge it safe because he started to back out of the parking spot. "We'll see," was all Elijah said. This was not comforting, but Logan decided it was probably best to let it go.

The two drove for roughly twenty minutes in silence before Logan couldn't stand it anymore. She was sick of staring out the windshield at the dark shapes flashing by. "Do you ever listen to music?" Logan demanded.

"Sometimes," said Elijah. He sounded faintly amused.

Logan was glad her general irritation and impatience was so funny to him. She leaned forward and turned the radio on rather violently. Then she stayed forward, hand hovering over the dashboard as she waited to hear what Elijah listened to. It shouldn't have been a surprise to find it was NPR.

She was tempted to ask him if he was secretly an elderly man, but Logan already knew he really was. He had to be thousands of years old. "We are not doing this today," Logan said. She pushed a couple of buttons before she figured out how to change stations. "How do you feel about rock?"

"I like it more than pop."

Logan didn't know how much he liked pop, so this was not very helpful. She tried again: "What about rap?"

"Absolutely not."

Logan snickered and changed the station again. "Country?"

"I prefer rap."

"Opera?"

"Only Italian."

Logan had no clue how to satisfy this guy. Would he rather listen to Logan talk than music? What did he have against it, anyway? It struck Logan that Elijah probably didn't watch TV, either, and likely had no favorite movie. "I hope you have a favorite color," said Logan, as she left the station on a classical one.

Elijah glanced at her. "Why?"

Logan raised her eyebrows at him. "So you can regain some semblance of normality," she said dryly, leaning back in the passenger's seat again. "I'm willing to bet good money that you don't like TV or movies either." Logan paused. "I bet all you do is read."

"Perhaps," said Elijah. To Logan's surprise, he sounded as though he was actually enjoying himself. "I don't mind documentaries, or accurate period dramas." _So _Downtown Abbey_, probably,_ thought Logan. This was the only one she knew. "I don't have a favorite film; I'm not particularly fond of any."

"So you read," Logan concluded.

"And travel," said Elijah. "I like museums and art."

Logan opened her mouth to quip that he was a work of art himself and, due to this and his age, probably should have been in a museum; she quickly cut herself off before she could shoot herself in the foot. She closed her mouth and hesitated before asking, "Is that a no on the favorite color?"

Elijah shrugged. "I'm partial to blue."

_Finally,_ thought Logan. She glanced down and realized she was wearing a blue dress. _Hah_. "Blue is a nice color," Logan agreed. "My personal favorite is purple."

"The color of royalty," said Elijah. Logan wondered what the hell he was finding so amusing. "Do you read?"

Logan shook her head. "Not really," she said. "I mean, I kind of like stupid contemporary novels about high school, but that's basically it." There was no way she'd admit to liking paranormal romance right now. "My friends make fun of me for liking word searches and crossword puzzles. I listen to music a lot. And I like museums, too."

Elijah made a 'hmph' kind of sound in the back of his throat. "How do you have the friends that you do?" Elijah asked, as he changed lanes on the highway. "If they keep important information from you and mock what you like?"

Logan thought about it. "I don't know," she said, looking down to fidget with the end of her dress. "We've known each other since we were five. I guess we just kind of happened." She felt uncomfortable to leave the subject like that, so she added, "And they do have redeeming qualities. They're funny and loyal and protective, and I can tell them anything."

Elijah nodded. "I see," he said.

There was a stretch of quiet then, during which Logan listened to the radio and tried to mentally identify the artists before the DJ did. When a commercial break interrupted, Logan switched to a rock station she knew; for the majority of the drive she hopped around between classical and rock stations.

Logan started to think that she recognized some of the places they passed. She prayed to God that Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie had been able to cook up a fabulous lie they could give to her mother. "We're almost there," said Elijah, when one song ended and the DJ started to talk about some contest. "I'd like if you could answer a few questions."

This was interesting. "Sure," said Logan, turning back toward Elijah. She propped her elbow up on the windowsill and rested her head against her fist to look at him. She did like talking with him—it was an excuse to stare at him without being too obvious about it.

"When we met," said Elijah, refusing to take his eyes off the road, "what did you feel?"

Logan tried not to laugh. Was he working up to asking her out or something? Once she shoved that thought out of her head she considered. "Um," she said, "I don't know. Like I just figured out a really hard clue in a crossword, I guess." She was not going to tell him about the fairytale thing.

"Like something clicked into place?" asked Elijah.

"Yeah," said Logan, as it dawned on her. "Yeah, like a puzzle piece."

"Hm," was all Elijah said. Logan was a little freaked out now—was that supposed to be what love at first sight felt like? From the various Lifetime and Hallmark movies she'd watched with Caroline she was fairly certain this description did not fit. If she and Elijah had had love at first sight, they probably would have kissed by now, or at least properly flirted.

Weird. "Do you believe in fate, Logan?" asked Elijah, as he started to take the exit ramp for Mystic Falls.

Logan frowned. "Not exactly," she said. "I'm Catholic. I think everything happens for a reason, and God knows everything that will happen, but we make our own decisions." This conversation was just getting weirder and weirder—did Elijah think they were star-crossed lovers or something?

"Interesting," murmured Elijah. They slowed down for a stoplight.

Logan studied him for a second. Then she said, because she couldn't take it anymore, "If you're trying to ask me out, just ask."

Elijah let out a startled laugh. "I'm not trying to ask you out," he said somewhat affectionately. "I'm just—curious about something."

Logan threw her hands in the air. "Gee, it would've been annoying if you were super vague and cryptic."

"I'm sorry," said Elijah, glancing toward Logan. His lip twitched, which meant he was tempted to smile, and therefore was not very sorry at all. "If I discover anything that involves you, I will contact you."

"Wait," said Logan, as the light turned green and they started to move again. "So you're not keeping me hostage?"

"No, I am not," said Elijah.

Logan was surprised and confused by this. She turned to look out the window; the streets were empty, but she recognized landmarks like gas stations and strip malls. They were on the outskirts of Mystic Falls. "Why not?" Logan found herself asking.

Elijah moved over to the right lane and slowed, turning on the directional. "You're my gesture of goodwill."

Now it made sense. Elijah was releasing her in order to try and convince Elena to give herself up to him. Logan did like Elijah—and she admitted it—but she much preferred being able to go home to driving around on an endless road trip with the man. "Well," said Logan, only half joking, "it'll be hard for you to contact me without a phone number."

"I was going to ask you for it when we arrived."

Logan squinted out the passenger's side window. They had entered a neighborhood, it seemed, but the houses were massive and unfamiliar. "Uh, arrived where, exactly?"

Just then Elijah pulled up to the curb. He slowed to a halt and put the car in park. "The Salvatore Boarding House," he said. He reached inside his blazer and pulled out a black smartphone. "Phone number, please?"

Logan told him; then she reached out to unlock her door. She pushed it open and climbed out. Then she paused, one hand on the door, and leaned over. Elijah looked at her expectantly. "Thank you," Logan said.

"No, Logan," said Elijah. "Thank you."

Logan saluted him and stood back to slam the car door shut. When she had done this, she turned around to start crossing the massive grassy lawn. Logan only looked back when she reached the driveway—Elijah seemed to be waiting for her to get inside.

This struck her as sort of cute, and she rolled her eyes at herself as she resumed walking. She marched up the circular driveway and marveled at the sprawling affair that was the Salvatore home. Logan would have been in a state of further disbelief if she hadn't now known that the brothers were vampires, and had probably had ages to stockpile money.

Logan passed an unfamiliar black car in the drive. She peered inside as she passed it, but she didn't stop to consider. Instead she walked around it, and then up the few brick steps of the house. In a moment she had reached the front door, and Logan reached out to ring the doorbell. It was only after she had rung it that she realized she had no clue how late it was.

Logan folded her arms as she waited. The night air was cold and she was hungry and needed a bathroom. Plus, she was dying for a shower, and she'd been avoiding lifting her arms since this morning, because she needed to shave.

After a couple of minutes Logan rang the doorbell again. She put her hand on her hip and waited, watching the door. It wasn't much long after that she heard footsteps, and the door swung open inward. "We don't—" said Damon Salvatore.

Then he stared. "Logan?" He blinked, and then widened his eyes at her, as if he wasn't sure whether or not he was hallucinating. "What the hell are you doing here?" He craned his neck to look past her. "Elijah isn't waiting out there, is he?"

"Nope," said Logan, who hoped Elijah had already pulled away from the curb. "Now move, I have to pee."

With that said she pushed past Damon and marched into the house. Damon started to say something, but then stopped, and ended up kind of squeaking instead of speaking. "Did I just hear you—" Logan heard Stefan call from somewhere else in the house. He came jogging around a corner from the right; then he stopped short. "Oh, thank God," said Stefan upon sighting Logan. "You're still okay, right?"

"Yup," said Logan. She gave Stefan the peace sign. "Where's a bathroom?"

Stefan still looked amazed, but he turned and pointed. "Walk down that way, and take the door on the right in the kitchen," he said. Logan nodded at him and started to walk past him. As she did Stefan turned to watch her. "I can't believe he just let you go like that. He didn't make you sign some kind of contract, did he?"

"Does she drink vervain?" asked Damon, who had gotten over the shock of finding Logan on his doorstep and was now walking over to join Stefan.

"What the hell is vervain?" called Logan. She didn't stop walking.

Damon was apparently not amused, because a split second later he appeared in front of Logan. She stopped and jumped, startled. Then she folded her arms and gave him an unamused look. "Would you please move?" she asked.

Instead of complying, Damon leaned in and looked deeply into her eyes. Logan raised an eyebrow at him but didn't break the eye contact. "Tell me if Elijah compelled you," he said.

"He did last night to make me sleep, but that's it," said Logan at once.

"Hmph," said Damon, drawing back. He folded one arm and held his elbow, stroking his chin thoughtfully with his other hand. "This is weird. I don't like it."

Logan huffed in annoyance. "I'm his goodwill gesture," she snapped. "Can I please go to the bathroom?"

"Sure," said Damon slowly. He looked over Logan's shoulder and presumably met Stefan's eye before stepping to the side. Logan patted his nearest shoulder before resuming her march down the hallway.

The Salvatore house was incredible. Even though Logan was currently on a one-track mission, she did still catch glimpses of her surroundings: ornate silver, dark wood, and random, classy objects were scattered everywhere. There seemed to be plenty of portraits of old family members and equestrians as well.

The bathroom itself was rather large for a kitchen bathroom. Once Logan had used the bathroom, washed her hands, and made sure she didn't look as hellish as she felt, she walked back out into the hallway. "I'm sorry for barging in like this," she said as she did, because it had occurred to her that she should probably say this.

Damon was only a few feet away, a half-empty whiskey bottle in his hand. Stefan was closer. He looked grim and had his arms folded over a wifebeater. Logan spotted a circular tattoo on his shoulder. "It's fine," Stefan assured her. "Did Elijah say anything to you about a plan?"

"All I know is he wants to stop his crazy brother, who put all of the other Originals in comas and sent them out to sea," said Logan promptly. She clapped her hands together and then wiped them off on her dress out of habit. "I know nothing of actual use. Sorry."

Stefan nodded, lowering his eyes to the ground and tapping his lips in consideration. He swung around, dropping his hand again, to face Damon. "I'm going to bring her home," said Stefan, jerking a thumb in Logan's direction over his shoulder. "Keep an eye out."

"Will do," said Damon. He lifted the whiskey bottle toward Logan in some weird sort of toast before turning on his heel and wandering away—back toward a staircase Logan noticed, accessible from another small corridor. This house was like a castle.

She turned toward Stefan. "Come on," he said, giving her a small, polite smile.

_You're a vampire,_ thought Logan; but the thought of a vicious blood-sucking creature, with the dark eyes and purplish veins that Rose had showed her, could not be reconciled with this friendly, polite version of Stefan. "Thanks," said Logan, forcing herself to walk after him. She walked alongside him back up the main hallway.

"Elena will be glad you're home," said Stefan as they turned together to enter the foyer.

Logan barely resisted rolling her eyes. "We'll see about that," she muttered. "Hey," she added as it occurred to her, "did you guys ever come up with anything to tell my mother?"

"Damon compelled her this afternoon," said Stefan as he swung open the front door. "He compelled your whole family, actually. Sorry about that." Logan wasn't sure how she felt about this. "They think you've been sick with a stomach bug since the night of the masquerade party, and you've just been holed up in your room."

Logan made a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat. "Make sure to thank Damon for me," she decided to say, as she and Stefan walked down the brick steps of the house.

"I will," said Stefan. He offered Logan another reassuring look, to which she politely nodded. Maybe she could understand, just a little, why Elena and the others hadn't told her about vampires. Living a life of blissful ignorance would have been far easier.

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><p>AUTHOR'S NOTE | Thank you for reading! :D I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! :)<p>

DISCLAIMER | I don't own _The Vampire Diaries_.


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